


Lost and Found

by Peetabreadgirl



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 16:57:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 60,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6574420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peetabreadgirl/pseuds/Peetabreadgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss Everdeen takes a much needed break from life on a deserted island, where she comes across the hidden treasure of a lifetime. Tarzan!Peeta request by Mega-aulover on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was not posted to Tumblr, but I decided I wanted a quick prologue to introduce the story and let everyone know how Peeta came to be on the island. The link is to the banner made by Loving-Mellark. Isn't it fab?!

<http://www.bilder-upload.eu/upload/c2cadf-1459932331.gif>  

Summer, 1995

 

A loud clap of thunder reverberated through the small sailing vessel, startling Peeta awake. Eyes widened with alarm, he grabbed for the flashlight stowed in the tiny compartment next to his bed, clumsily dropping the light before he could turn it on. He heard it rolling from side to side, banging against walls and cramped furniture as the boat tipped dramatically on top of what Peeta knew must be massive waves.

 

Shouts sounded outside of his cabin and suddenly the door burst open. His father rushed inside, yanking him from the warmth of his bed. “Peeta!” Mr. Mellark’s voice was urgent. “Peeta, I need you to listen closely.” Peeta, mute with fear, nodded shakily at his father’s insistence.

 

“I need you to put this on,” his father implored, wrapping a bright orange life vest around him, tightening the belt as quickly as he could. Peeta winced as he gave it a sharp, secure tug. “We’re going up to the deck, and we’re going to climb into the dinghy. Whatever you do, do not let go of my hand, understand?” Peeta nodded again, eyes as big is moons, lips clenched tight. “This is not a drill, son.” Peeta’s little hand was gripped so tight in his father’s massive one that he couldn’t have let go if he’d wanted to.

 

Reaching the deck, Peeta could barely look around for all the wind and pellets of rain beating against his face. Shielding his eyes, he saw his mother ahead of them, watching, gripping the railing of the boat for balance. Peeta’s little brother clutched tightly to her chest. The look on her face was sheer terror, and she hollered something to them that Peeta couldn’t hear over the roar of the storm.

 

It was pitch black until a burst of lightning illuminated the sky and sea. And that’s when Peeta saw it. A wave the size of a small building was bearing down on their boat, just behind his mother and brother, and she had no idea.

 

“Mooooooooom!” Peeta shouted at the tip top of his lungs. She motioned at him to come closer, but his father yanked him back inside as the rush of angry water spilled over the edge. The boat toppled like to the side, almost rolling completely over before righting itself again. Peeta’s hand slipped away from his father’s, and as soon as he was able he broke through from the cabin onto the deck, eyes searching the spot where he’d last seen his mother and brother.

 

Nothing. It was empty. Before he could rush to the edge and look for them in the thrashing waters, Peeta felt large hands grab his shoulders. “No, Peeta!” The voice of his father was loud and insistent, cracking with the reality of what Peeta couldn’t understand. Their family of four had just become a family of two.

 

Peeta felt himself being picked up, and he kicked out in confusion and anger. Where was his mother? Why wouldn’t his father let him go to her?

 

In a matter of minutes, Peeta crumpled at the bottom of the dinghy, rain continuing to pelt his pale skin. “Take these!” his father yelled. Peeta looked up with bewildered blue eyes as their family’s leather-bound picture book, along with a black box Peeta knew carried a few meaningful possessions of his parents, was tossed alongside him. Peeta began to cry as his father lowered the dinghy to the surface of the raging water, his sobs drowned out by the wailing of the wind.

 

The small life boat bobbed up and down in the water, and Peeta looked above him as his father climbed over the railing, preparing to jump into the small space. Light blitzed the sky and thunder shook the heavens, causing Peeta’s father’s foot to slip on the boat as he tried to push off. Peeta watched helplessly as his father fell into the water, flashes of lightning illuminating his form all the way down, just feet from where he was. He crawled to the edge of the dingy, frantically scanning the water’s surface for a bobbing head or an arm. A hand. _Anything_. He considered jumping in after them, but he remembered his father’s words as he'd tossed his seven year old boy into the dinghy. _“Whatever you do, son, don’t leave that boat!”_

 

Minutes went by and still Peeta held out hope. He stared across the sea, willing to see a familiar face. Finding none after what seemed an eternity, his heart sank like a rock. He screamed and beat on the floor of the boat in anger. He felt as though he was sobbing but he couldn’t tell through the rushing of rain over his face.

 

The storm continued a while longer and Peeta finally hunkered in a corner, in shock and all alone. Eventually, the skies cleared and Peeta, exhausted from the ordeal, feel asleep. The boat jolted him awake when he felt the bottom rub against something, sending him skidding across the bottom. He sat up quick, but not before a wave pushed on the side, toppling so that Peeta fell into the water.

 

He sputtered and splashed, almost sinking before his feet hit bottom. He pushed off the sea floor, sending his body flying out of the water. His feet touched bottom again but this time his head stayed above the surface. He could touch. He whirled around, waist deep in clear, blue water, and spread before him was a white sand beach, a jungle of trees beyond it. Peeta dragged himself out of the surf and collapsed on the sand, falling back to sleep until the sounds of monkeys woke him.

 

 

  
  
  
  
  
  


 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

Ever since she'd landed on the white sand beach of the uninhabited island, Katniss had the distinct feeling she was being watched by something, or some _one._ She couldn't put her finger on it, but a handful of times over the last two weeks the sense had prickled through her, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. It was almost always when she was alone. _That’s probably why_ , she thought.

 

Normally, Katniss stayed behind when the men of their small exploration party went out to survey the island, looking for the perfect place to build their newest all-inclusive resort. She shared no interest in where the multi-million dollar facility would go, so she hung back to study the untouched natural landscape around their campsite with her camera. She was a photographer after all. And she preferred the company of no one to the company of a spoiled, green-eyed heir, a pompous assistant, and a crotchety old man who happened to be her Uncle.

 

She had come with Haymitch, her father’s brother, as a way to escape an ugly divorce and the mounting questions about her ex-husband’s sexuality. It had been embarrassing enough finding out that her husband preferred men, but having to explain it to friends and family had been far worse. The look of pity on their faces was enough to send Katniss running for the hills. Or, rather, a quaint island off the coast of Africa.

 

Katniss jumped at the chance when her gruff Uncle, who was the foreman of Heavensbee, Inc.’s newest pet project. He had offered her an all expenses paid trip to an island lush with overgrown flora and brimming with adventure in exchange for snapping still shots of the company’s new acquisition. Although she had a feeling her father had put him up to it, she was nonetheless grateful for the opportunity to get away from the bustling city she’d spent too much time in. The thought of soaking up the sun and swimming in the crystal clear surf, while exploring untouched beaches and coves excited Katniss, and she knew this would be a once in a lifetime opportunity. She’d said yes almost immediately, and a week later found herself whisked away on a private jet to a remote part of the Indian Ocean.

 

It had been an hour since the surveyors had gone in search of the grandest view the island had to offer, guns at the ready and canteens full of fresh water from the stream at the edge of the campsite. She was sitting by the charred remains of last night’s campfire, testing a panoramic lens when she felt it again. Goosebumps pebbled her arm and her ears perked in wait, listening for any crackle of a branch or brush of a leaf. Hearing prey was something she’d had years of practice at, having grown up in the woods of North Carolina. Her father had taken her hunting from the time she was able to hold a bow and release its arrow with ease, if not accuracy.

 

Only the sound of her heartbeat thundered in her ears. The birds even seemed to have paused their morning song to listen with her. Cautiously, Katniss stood, her head turning slowly, eyes scanning the brush and the upper parts of the dense foliage. The silence stretched on, and she couldn’t tell if she was perspiring from the slowly rising temperature or the suspense of wondering if something really was out there.

 

Seeing nothing, Katniss made her way back to her tent, all the while keeping her eyes and ears alert. She ducked inside her large canvas home away from home to still her nerves and rehydrate her body.

 

The flapping of the loose fabric of her tent door  in the breeze helped to calm her nerves. It was blissfully quiet on the island. Something she’d missed living in the city. But at the times when she’d felt as though she was being watched, it seemed eerily quiet.

 

Katniss took a deep breath and downed the contents of the canteen. She decided to give her mind a much needed break with a jaunt to the sandy beach and a dip in the clear sea.

 

Canteen across her shoulder and camera in hand, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched the entire quarter mile walk to the stretch of white where they had landed that first day. The sand was blinding during the noon hour, so Katniss preferred to come mid-morning, even though she’d been told by Finnick, grandson of Plutarch Heavensbee and heir to Heavensbee, Inc., that the current was worse in the mornings. Katniss had grown up a strong swimmer, and wasn’t afraid of the water. She was certain the playboy billionaire had been trying to show off for her, because after daily trips the last two weeks down to the beach, she’d yet to encounter a strong current.

 

Like every other day, Katniss kicked off her Tevas in the shade of a nearby palm tree and tugged her cover up over her head. She snapped a few pictures of coconuts high in the tree, and a few more of the waves, with their foamy whitecaps curling in like graceful fingers beckoning her to the water. She accepted the invitation, first wrapping up her camera inside her coverup, then jogging across the sand that was just beginning to warm under the sun’s rays.

 

Katniss dove into the surf and began to swim, feeling free with no one around and nothing under her feet. She had always felt weightless and carefree in the water, and with the mess of a life she’d lived lately, it felt even better.

 

Popping her head out of the water, she looked out to the massive ocean, wondering at how small she felt. How much at the sea’s mercy she was in this moment. It was exhilarating. She turned back to the store and felt her stomach pitch in surprise. The beach seemed so distant. She must have been swimming extremely fast to have gone this far. So far that she couldn’t make out which tree she’d placed her orange swim cover under.

 

Taking a deep breath, Katniss began to pump her arms and kick her legs in the direction of the shore. Certain she’d gained some ground, she paused, needing to catch her breath, and a quick glance toward her destination sent her heart racing even faster. She wasn’t much closer than she had been when she’d started to swim back, and she was tiring quickly treading water. Terror gripped her when she remembered Finnick’s warning about the morning currents.

 

She hadn’t been swimming at top speed. She’d been pulled out with the current, and now that she was swimming against it, she was getting nowhere fast. Katniss’s survival instinct switched on, and she dropped her head into the water, mustering all her strength into her best freestyle stroke. Another glance up after using up her second burst of energy revealed she was still so far from land, and being swept left of the beach where she started.

 

Katniss flipped to her back, floating on top of the water to catch her breath and rest her tired limbs. Fear pumped through her veins like fire, willing her to keep going. Deep, calming breaths helped her think, and shortly after she flipped back over, making another attempt to break out of the dangerous current.

 

Tears pricked her eyes when she looked up a third time, having been swept so far from the beach, and despair began to set in. She could possibly float on her back for hours, but this island was barren of human life. No one would be able to find her. No one, save for a few, would even look. She could be swept so far out to sea by the time anyone in her party noticed she was gone that they would never find her. And what about when night came? Katniss shivered at the thought of spending eight hours of darkness in the abyss of this ocean, alone and unable to defend herself from sharks or other sea creatures that fed at night. If this was to be her fate, should she give up now? Or prolong the last few precious moments she had?

 

With no fight left in her, Katniss took a deep breath, slowly expelling it from her lungs. The water lapped over her chest, then her face, like a sloppy wet kiss as the current dragged her under. Her mind screamed _No!_ and her lungs burned, thick like hot ash.

 

She thought she must be dead, because the feel of strong arms twining around her waist like silk surely couldn’t be real. There was no one around for miles, yet Katniss felt air rush back into her lungs as she coughed and sputtered when her head broke free of its watery confines. The brightness of the sun that seeped back into her eyelids receded as quickly as it came, blackness dragging her to that final grave.

 

 

Katniss felt the roughness of something underneath her thighs, the sense of being dragged. Her head lulled back, and for the briefest of moments her eyes flitted open before closing again as blackness consumed her.

 

 

Katniss dreamed of long, blond hair, dripping with dew. A thick, muscled back that trailed into a toned and tanned backside. Powerful, sculpted legs that could climb the highest trees and run across beaches covered in deep sand. She also dreamed of lips, damp and warm, and breath that tickled her lungs, reaching someplace deep inside her, calling her to come back.

 

* * *

 

A groan escaped her lips, and Katniss felt something move slightly beneath her head. Her eyes opened slowly, taking in the setting of the sun. It’s orange rays fading to pink and finally purple on the horizon. The sound of waves lapping at the shore would have been relaxing if it weren’t for the severe pounding of her head and the pitching of her stomach as her body seemed to sway and bob with the ocean’s currents, even though she was safe on land.

 

Looking around the beach, Katniss wondered how she got there. The last thing she knew she had gone for a swim. The pieces of what happened after began to form a terrifying puzzle. One that showed a picture of how she almost lost her life.

 

Wondering about that final piece - the piece that helped her understand how she made it back to shore - Katniss rolled to the side, placing her hand on something solid, something _fleshy._

She looked toward the warmth she’d felt, noticing a powerful looking leg underneath her. She scrambled up and away, sucking in a breath so severe it felt like it bruised her throat. She slapped a hand over her mouth, silencing a scream.

 

A man- a very _naked_ man - lay sprawled out just behind her in the sand. Katniss blushed and averted her gaze, out of respect, from _there_ to his face. His eyes were closed and Katniss wondered if he were dead or just sleeping. The realization that this must be how she ended up alive had her scrambling over the sand to check his breathing.

 

She laid her hand on his chest to feel for a heartbeat, then lowered her face just a hair’s breadth from his. She could feel his breath fan across her face, and she released a grateful sigh. He was alive. She took a moment to study him - hair longer than her own. A nose perfectly straight, save for one slight bump that told Katniss it had been broken once. He had a long beard as well, that seemed scraggly and unkempt. His chest was chiseled more perfectly than a marble statue, waist tapered and perfectly indented in a V at his hips. Save for the tattered hair, he was beautiful. The perfect specimen of humanity.

 

She tried not to look further, but the temptation was too strong, and she was surprised to see it had grown in size since she last peeked. It twitched slightly, and Katniss jerked her head back to his face.

 

Eyes bluer than the ocean she’d been trapped in stared back at her, and no matter how uncomfortable she felt, she couldn’t look away. She watched his gaze flit around curiously, roaming every inch of her face. She managed to tear her eyes away to his mouth. His chapped lips were slightly parted, and Katniss found herself wondering what they felt like. She stared at them, mesmerized, until a small grunt escaped them, breaking the trance. Her eyes returned to his, and coming to her senses, she backed away.

 

The man scrambled to his knees and followed her. He was quick, reaching for her and taking one arm in his hand for inspection, then the other. When he was satisfied there, he trailed his fingertips over her cheekbones, lightly turning her head to each side, then up and down, as he looked her over. His hands lowered to her shoulders, hooking into the strings of her swimsuit  and tugging downward before Katniss realized what was happening. She gasped and yanked it back up, flashing the handsome stranger the scowl she was best known for. He cocked his head in answer and grunted again, a mischievous grin overtaking his face.

 

“Don’t!” Katniss yelled at him, stomping her foot in the sand in defiance. How dare he think that he had a right to her body after saving her! She would have have none of that. “Where are your clothes?” Katniss barked at him as he stood, turning her face to the dense foliage beyond the beach. Her cheeks flamed with heat, but he walked toward her, sounding out another grunt, though this time Katniss sensed it was a question hanging between them in the humid evening air.

 

“Do you speak English?” she asked. There must be another group here on the island. By the look of the man in front of her they were probably Dutch, but Katniss had yet to hear a word in any language from him.

 

Katniss saw the confusion he felt as his brows furrowed together, but her eyes had a difficult time staying trained on his face, no matter how beautiful it was, because _that_ was on display. Knowing there wouldn’t be much conversation until she could cover it, she walked around him d Katniss could think of nothing except how utterly ridiculous it all seemed - what her life had been a little over two weeks ago to what it looked like right now were two very different scenarios.

 

When she reached the palm tree, Katniss fell into the sand, panting anand took off down the beach toward the palm tree where she had left her things. She felt sand being kicked up around her legs and the steady breathing of the stranger as he easily caught up to her. She looked over at him, and unbidden her eyes traveled lower, focusing on a certain appendage that caught her eye mid-bounce. She ripped her gaze away and groaned. The man responded with a grunt of his own and Katniss shot him a curious look. He had a grin that covered his face from ear to ear, and thirsty for fresh water. She pulled the round, plastic container to her lips and gulped greedily, as if her life depended on it. Her eyes cut to the side when the blond stranger, still in all his glory, plopped down beside her, looking as though he exerted as much effort as he would on a lazy Sunday stroll.

He was staring at her, still wearing that goofy grin. Katniss wondered if he needed water, too, and she motioned for him to drink some. He took the canteen in hand, mimicking what he’d witnessed. Splashes of water fell onto his lips and chin as he shook its contents.

 

“No, no,” Katniss chided him like a she would a five year old, wondering where he learned his manners. “Like this,” she explained, touching her finger to his bearded chin and tipping his head back. She pressed the canteen to his lips and tilted it so that water dribbled into his mouth, then she pulled it away. “See?” She showed him again, then handed it back. He grunted in a way that made Katniss think she understood, then mimicked her movements again, correctly.

 

When he was finished, he handed the container back to Katniss, and moved closer to her. His manhood bobbed between his legs and she suddenly remembered why she had come back to the tree. She grabbed the orange cover up and stood, motioning the man to do the same. He jumped up quickly, a pleased smile plastered on his face. Katniss moved cautiously toward him, feeling his eyes on her the entire time. When she was standing close enough to him that she could wrap her arms around his waist and tie her cover up at his hip, she felt his arms encircle her gently. His grunt this time was low and thoughtful. The reverberations from his chest sent a chill down Katniss’s spine, and she tied the knot quickly and broke away from his embrace.

 

“There. You’re appropriate for the public eye,” Katniss commented, stepping back to peruse her handiwork. Her eyes trailed the broad expanse of his chest, roamed the ridges of his arms, and felt a prick of something pleasurable low in her belly. How did he look even better wearing her cover up? She cocked her head to the side in thought.

 

The man cocked his head to the side, mirroring Katniss, then looked down at the orange fabric that covered him from waist to mid-thigh. He fingered the material, then gave it an annoyed tug and let it fall to the ground.

 

“Wait!” Katniss’s eyes widened at the sight of his manhood again. He stood before her, unabashed in his nakedness as Katniss dropped her head, shielding her eyes with one hand while fumbling around his feet for the cover up.

 

She felt his hands on her shoulders, pulling her up just after she located the fabric. His eyes studied her, moving lower than her face this time. Katniss could tell he was young, her age even, by the smoothness of his skin and the youthful look in his bluer-than-the-ocean eyes. He picked at her swimsuit, grunting when Katniss slapped his hand away, admonishing him with a ‘ _no’._ His brow came together in confusion or annoyance, Katniss couldn’t discern.

 

Quicker this time, he pulled at the string keeping her top in place. Katniss smacked his hand away, a little harder and her ‘ _no_ ’ less gentle. He stepped away from her, looking down at himself, then back at her. Katniss could tell he was wondering about their differences.

 

“Clothes,” she said, feeling the need to speak in one word answers. She pulled the cover up over her head to show him. Understanding seemed to dawn in his eyes, an excited grunt passing over his rough lips. Katniss didn’t move as he made his way to her, pulling the orange dress up and over her head. She didn’t know why she let him, but she had, and a feeling settled inside her that thoughts accompanying that one simple action might come back to her at night.

 

A flash of soft orange brought her back to reality, and she barked out a laugh at the sight before her. The blond stranger, who was seeming less and less like a stranger every minute she spent with him, had donned the cover up the same way Katniss had. The beach dress was small on him, and she couldn’t believe it was any kind of comfortable against his skin. But there he was, threads threatening to split at the seams, hem hanging low enough to just cover the impressive package Katniss had already seen.

 

He laughed along with her, and Katniss could have melted at the twinkle in his eyes. His teeth were bright white. Katniss noticed one of his incisors was slightly crooked, but other than that they were perfect. She smiled back at him.

 

“What’s your name?” she asked. Another grunt. “Your name?” she repeated, stepping forward as though her nearness would help him understand. He still didn’t use any words. Only gruff groans with different inflections in the tone.

 

Placing a hand on her chest, Katniss said her name, then pointed to the man. He positioned his own hand on his chest, just as he’d seen Katniss do. He tried to repeat her, but the K sounded more like a G, he over enunciated the T, and drug out the double S in her name so long she found herself looking around for a serpent. She didn’t mind, though.

 

“No. No, look,” she tried again. “Kat-niss,” she pronounced for him. Seeing he was about to pat his own chest and say her name again, she reached out for his hand, placing it over her heart. “Katniss.” She picked his hand up and laid it back down on her chest once more, repeating her name. She watched as his gaze flickered from his hand to her face many times before he raised his hand slightly, letting it fall back above her beating heart.

 

“K-kat, n-niss.”

 

“Yes!” Katniss cried out, proud that they had accomplished some kind of communication. She patted his hand over her chest, and the man smiled, knowing he was being praised.

 

“Katniss!” The call of Finnick’s voice broke the spell of progress and comfort they had been making. The hand she had been grasping to her chest was yanked away, and she watched as the man quickly disappeared into the copse of trees just beyond them. She was about to call out for him until she realized she didn’t know his name.

 

Moments later Finnick ran up to her on the beach. “My God, Katniss! We’ve been looking for you! You should have been at the campsite by now. What on earth have you been doing?”

 

He sounded genuinely concerned, and his hands grabbed her shoulders, giving her a gentle shake.

 

“S-sorry,” she squeaked out. She wasn’t sure she wanted to answer Finnick’s question. She would have to admit to being pulled out to sea by the current he’d warned her about. Then she’d have to tell him about the man that saved her. She barely knew him, and what she’d heard about him wasn’t endearing at all.

 

A thought occurred to her then, and she asked before she could think better of it. “Have you seen anyone else on this island? Other than us, I mean.”

 

He gave her a strange look before answering. “No, it’s just us here. Though, sometimes I get the feeling we’re being watched. But I’ve never seen anyone else.” He looked over her features, and Katniss wasn’t sure if he would find the truth or not. She was a terrible actress. “Is that what you mean? You feel like you’re being watched?”

 

Katniss nodded her head, grateful that she didn’t have to outright lie to Finnick. “We all feel that way, but it’s nothing. Just our imaginations,” he said.

 

Katniss picked up her things and followed Finnick back to the campsite. She glanced around and listened intently, hoping to catch a glimpse of her savior from earlier. Every step she took was filled once again with the sense they were being watched, but this time Katniss didn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a ton to my betas, Burkygirl and Xerxia. You rock and you make my stories shine! Come chat with me on tumblr. Tell me how you like the story, or yell at me for not updating Hello. Your call. :) Pbg


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

Around the makeshift dinner table, Katniss kept her eyes low and her ears perked, though she wouldn’t be able to hear anything with the way the three men around her were carrying on.

 

The ruckus had started with her own flesh and blood telling a mild dirty joke, and was escalating as each one of them took a turn trying to one-up the other. The whole thing was tiresome and boring, and Katniss found herself longing for the company of another person.

 

Her thoughts drifted back to the mysterious man that had saved her earlier that day. She really hadn’t stopped thinking about him at all since he’d run into the tropical forest like a mad man, wearing her orange sundress. The vision of it made Katniss’s laughter bubble up to uncontainable proportions until it spilled over into the group.

 

“You liked that one, Kitty?” Finnick asked, catching Katniss by surprise. Her laughter subsided at the pet name he’d coined for her as soon as they’d met on the plane. She stared at him a moment, willing the scowl to stay behind the delicate mask of merriment. She had to play along, knowing she couldn’t tell any of the men about her savior. At least not yet, not until she knew more about him. Why he was on the island. Where he came from. Why he was so… uncovered. A blush crept over Katniss’s cheeks as she remembered how close she was to him, to _it._

 

“Yeah. Yeah that one was... funny,” Katniss said, clearing her throat and trying to sound interested. She must have succeeded, since Finnick looked pleased at her response. But before any more conversation could be directed her way, Katniss stood and excused herself to her tent, letting them know she was exhausted from the day.

 

Once inside her quarters, Katniss considered going over to the stream to wash up, but the thought of it made her nervous, unsure if the sense she was being watched was heightened now because she _knew_ it was real, or if he would actually be watching. The idea of being naked in front of stranger, even one that had seemed so at ease in his own skin, left her feeling vulnerable. She didn’t think the man would hurt her. The fact that he’d risked his own life to save her made her believe he wasn’t capable of that. And his smile and curious demeanor gave him a quirky innocence that was charming, despite his uncivilized nature.

 

Katniss decided against it, clambering into her cot, even though she still had sea salt and sand covering parts of her body. She’d had enough adventure for one day.

 

* * *

 

_Tentacles of light surrounded Katniss, reaching past her and fading deep below, into darkness. She looked up at the sun bobbing in the sky. She felt weightless, calm. Looking around she noticed its tranquil beauty - the blue, clear liquid ebbing around her. She swiped her hand through it, relishing the silky feel of it between her fingers, the way she loved the cool sand sifting through her toes._

 

_The light began to recede, its rays retracting as if to let her go. An alarm went off inside her, suddenly aware of a tightness in her chest. Oxygen. She needed to breathe. Kicking relentlessly to reach the top was no use. The tug of the abyss was too great. She opened her mouth to scream for help, but water rushed in, drowning any chance she had of survival._

 

“Aaaaaahhhhhhh!” Katniss screamed, sitting straight up in her cot, gasping to fill her air-starved lungs. She clutched the thin blanket to her chest, which heaved as she drew in each precious breath. It was a dream. A nightmare, really. But it was too real.

 

“Katniss!” Finnick’s voice was troubled, the zipper tugged up in record time as he burst into her tent. The lantern on the small bedside table illuminated the space well enough that Katniss saw a flash of metal, alerting her to the large weapon in his hand.

 

“What are you doing with that?” Katniss bellowed, eyes focused on the gun. The men insisted on having them at all times for protection. They had tried to leave one with Katniss, but she refused. She’d rather take her chances with a large stick.

 

“I thought you might be under attack,” he replied, looking around the tent for signs of an intruder. _That’s ridiculous_ , Katniss thought. They were the only ones on the island. Well, that the others knew of anyway.

 

“By who? This island is uninhabited,” she said, knowing better.

 

“It’s not uninhabited by wild animals, Katniss.” The monotone sound of his voice pricked at her drowsiness. He didn’t seem to know anything about an unidentified person wandering around. The questions about the stranger swirled around her in a fog. She felt exhausted, and with a near death experience under her belt, all Katniss wanted was a peaceful night’s sleep. Answers would have to wait until morning.

 

“I’m fine,” she replied, her words clipped and to the point. She wanted him out.

 

Finnick gestured an apology with his hands, but his expression spoke of silent dejection. He disappeared with only the sound of the zipper being tugged back into place.

 

* * *

 

In the distance, the faint shriek of monkeys echoed through the tent. They were reliable as an alarm, and Katniss knew it was time to get up when she heard it. Light was creeping through the canopy of limbs and overgrown leaves above the sheer roof of the tent. She loved that she could gaze up at the many shades of green before rising out of bed, but this morning she only wanted to sleep.

 

Rolling onto her side and burying her face into the cot, Katniss took in a deep breath, inhaling something familiar. Something that smelled distinctly like a man. Musky with notes of salty sea air and the feel of sand. She picked up her head enough to get a glimpse of orange fabric stuffed under her flat pillow and immediately bolted off the cot, eyes glancing furiously around the space when she realized where it had to have come from.

  

Katniss stayed close to camp, wary of any more dips in the sea for now, finally  heeding Finnick’s warning since she’d experienced the danger first hand. She spent the day resting in the hammock her uncle had hung their first day on the island. It was uneventful except for the sighting of an exquisitely beautiful green and silver butterfly flitting through the trees, wings shaped like elaborate puzzle pieces. She chased it with her camera, snapping shots of the graceful insect every place it landed.

 

When Katniss could follow it no further, she returned to the hammock, disheartened. It was close to mid-afternoon, and she had been waiting all day for a face-to-face visit from her jungle man. He knew where she was, after all. The sundress under her pillow that morning had proven it.

 

The sun was hanging low behind the trees when her Uncle, Finnick, and Finnick’s right hand, Marvel, returned to camp, tired from their day of trekking up small mountains and through tangled vines. Katniss felt a tinge of disappointment. She couldn’t deny that she had wanted to see the stranger again, and now he surely wouldn’t come to her. She complained of a headache and excused herself from their company. Inside her tent, she opened a small container of peanut butter and a sleeve of crackers for dinner, then went to sleep.

 

* * *

 

_Katniss peered at the shafts of light imprisoning her. She’d been here before, and she knew right away that its beauty was deadly. She began kicking immediately, unwilling to wait for the murky depths to tug her down. Her lungs began to burn like a city on fire, and her cry for help felt strangled and useless._

 

Sitting upright in her bed again, Katniss heard her scream echo throughout the jungle.

 

“Katniss? Are you alright?” Finnick asked, this time leaving the canvas barrier between them. She was grateful for it.

 

“Yes. Just a bad dream.” Finnick’s footsteps across the jungle floor receded into the still of the night. Katniss laid back down, tossing and turning, before finally succumbing to slumber once more.

 

* * *

 

Katniss’s eyes blinked open sleepily once again to the wild screeching of monkeys playing in trees along the mountainside. She stretched and yawned, pointing her toes and raising her arms overhead before standing.

 

Reaching for her clothes, she stopped as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, her gaze drawn to a pair of fluttering wings. It wasn’t there the night before - this cage made of small, strong vines twined together in a ball, a shimmery, green butterfly captured within. It was the type of butterfly she had taken pictures of the day before, if not the exact same one.

 

A huge smile erupted onto her face. The blond stranger, _her_ blond stranger, had left her a gift. A second gift if she counted the return of her sundress.

 

The smile stayed put for too long, garnering the attention of her Uncle over breakfast.

 

“What’s got you all bent into shape?” Haymitch asked after the other two men had excused themselves to get ready for the day. Katniss had never been accused of having a sunny disposition, but try as she might, the scowl would not come. Katniss couldn’t stop thinking about him, about the crazy turn her life had taken. A secret admirer on a deserted island after divorcing a gay husband? Ludicrous might be a better term for it.

 

“I’m just happy to be here,” she answered cautiously. Katniss had thought about adding ‘with you’ at the end, but left it off knowing her uncle would surely suspect something strange was going on. She wanted to have a little adventure of her own, and she didn’t need anyone poking their noses into her little secret. Okay, it was a big secret. A secret she should probably divulge, but they were only here for another five and a half weeks. What could happen between now and then?

 

Uncle Haymitch gave her a doubtful look and sat back in his chair. “You better not be playing tonsil hockey or swapping bodily fluids with Mr. Odair at night, you hear?”

 

“What? Ew!” Not even the thought of her stranger could wipe the disgust off her face. “Why would you even think that?” She glared at her Uncle.

 

“Well, something’s got you all…” he paused as if reaching for the right word, rubbing his finger thoughtfully over his stubbled chin. “Cheery. Seems like it might be a man, but there’s only two here that could be responsible for that, and neither one of them are your type.”

 

“Thanks for the warning,” Katniss deadpanned, waiting for the punchline that ‘not her type’ was _straight_. It never came.

 

The uncomfortable silence between them, and the fact the her uncle continued to stare at her as though he could read her every thought like the pages of a controversial novel, forced her to get moving. “I’m gonna go wash up,” she announced hastily. “See you at dinner.”

 

“Be careful, Katniss,” Haymitch called after her. “You may be stubborn as a mule, but you’re still my niece.” She didn’t know what he was referring to. Whether he knew something about her secret man, or if he actually thought she was interested in Finnick. She shivered.

 

Finnick was nice enough, attentive when he felt necessary, and attractive for sure. The sculpted muscles that rippled beneath whatever fabric he was wearing drew the eyes of many a lady, Katniss was sure. His teeth were so perfect she wanted to rearrange them slightly crooked; eyes so green and bright they sparkled like freshly polished emeralds, hair the color of rust on vintage metal. It was unfair to the rest of humanity that a man so splendid walked the same earth as they, and that was exactly why Katniss wasn’t interested. He was too perfect on the outside, which meant he carried too much baggage on the inside. Katniss was imperfect enough without adding a whole other person to that equation.

 

The men left shortly after that, and boredom promptly chased away any caution she may have agreed to. She packed up a few supplies, including her butterfly, deciding to go back to the beach. She wanted to thank him and thought maybe there he would show himself. Possibly the familiar place would give him enough courage to come out and talk, or rather, make incoherent noises, to her again.

 

Once there, Katniss sat under the same tree, wearing the same orange dress, holding the handmade cage in her palms. She studied it and found a sliver of something - bark maybe? - tied around two of the vines. She pulled at it until it came loose and made a small opening. Sticking her finger inside to release the butterfly from its confines, she was surprised when it landed on her knuckle and perched there far longer than she thought possible.

 

After the butterfly retreated back to the cover of the trees, Katniss busied herself collecting sea shells that the morning tide had left behind. She dug her toes into the soft sand, waded into the shallow waters to wash the shells, and strolled up and down the shoreline, trying to pass time and coax him out of hiding. She knew he was there. She could feel his eyes on her every move.

 

When the sun was about to touch the water’s horizon, Katniss gave up. She walked reluctantly back to the tree and gathered her things, stuffing her new shells into the cage for safekeeping, and set off to the campsite.

 

Since she was back before the others, Katniss washed up quickly in the stream and readied the campfire for a pot of stew. She was starving and grateful that Finnick had spent so much purchasing the best camping food money could buy. The dehydrated packs were better than some of the high-dollar cuisine her husband had treated her to on their date nights.  

 

The conversation over dinner wasn’t much. The three men seemed exhausted, offering no recap on the day’s work. Katniss didn’t ask, eager for the meal to be over. Her mind was elsewhere. She wondered if her stranger would visit again tonight? The anticipation was almost enough to keep her awake. But the sun and exercise she’d had that day was stronger, pulling her under like an anchor. Down, down, deep down into the murky depths, the same troublesome rays caging her in.

 

Katniss found herself sitting up in bed again, shivering and sweating after the recurring nightmare. She couldn’t get out of the dream as quickly, and was surprised her lungs had any function at all. It had felt more than real that time.

 

“Kitty? You okay?” Finnick’s voice was distant. He’d heard her again, but hadn’t bothered to get out of bed this time. Just as well, Katniss thought.

 

“Yeah,” she hollered back, her voice raspy in her ears. She tossed the thin cover off, too unbearably hot to keep it on. It took an hour, but she finally drifted back asleep to the sound of raindrops falling in soft, rhythmic beats atop the forest canopy.

 

* * *

 

The monkeys were unusually loud, waking Katniss quicker than normal. They sounded as if they were just over the stream behind their camp. She had yet to see one, though she’d looked up into the mammoth trees every day since she’d arrived. The lower foliage probably shielded them from the prying eyes of any predators below.

 

Ignoring the rumble of her stomach and the pull of weariness, Katniss’s eyes landed on the cotside table, anticipating a third gift from her admirer. Her empty stomach fell at the bare space. He hadn’t come. Or at least if he had, he didn’t leave anything. She knew it was foolish. He’d only really left her one gift, and she chastised herself for silly hopes. _You don’t know anything about him,_ her conscience chimed in. She wanted to. No matter the consequences. He was rugged and exciting to Katniss, and the pull she felt toward him was unmistakable in its intensity.

 

Dressed for the day, she emerged to join her Uncle for breakfast, silently glad that Finnick and Marvel were still asleep in their tents. The ground beneath her feet squished as she walked, soggy from the night’s rain.

 

“You know those monkeys you hear every morning?” Haymitch asked after she seated herself in a chair. “We ran into a pack of ‘em. They’re not so friendly.” He sounded disturbed as he reached for the carafe they used for coffee. He poured them both a cup. “We took off running and ended up falling down a small ravine. Climbing back out took every ounce of strength we had left, and then the trek back here on top of that wiped them out.”

 

Katniss stared at her uncle with rounded eyes. She hadn’t once had the feeling of being in danger, except for the obvious time she was, and she barely felt it now, though she probably should. For now, hunger was at the forefront of her mind as she eyed her Uncle’s plate.

 

“You need to be careful. They’ve got big, sharp teeth, and they travel in packs. You’d be no match on your own,” he warned, scooping a helping of eggs into his mouth, continuing to speak in spite of them. “Stay at camp today. I don’t think they’ll come to this side of the island, but you _will_ keep a gun near you from now on, understand?” Katniss hated being treated like a child, but she knew her uncle would have it no other way. The alternative would surely be going with them on their expeditions, or having Marvel as a bodyguard 24/7. She didn’t want to confess that she already had a protector, not yet anyway. If she wanted a chance to see the stranger, she’d have to agree, but she didn’t have to obey. An idea began to form in her head.

 

“Alright,” she said, probably too eagerly judging by the look in her Uncle’s eyes. She stuffed her mouth full of eggs and focused her attention on her coffee.

 

Back in her tent, Katniss decided to sift through the sea shells to occupy her time before the others left for the day. She grabbed the cage, pulling at the little trap door, wondering at how skilled his hands must be to make something so intricate. She pulled out the first shell, surprised to find it was attached by a thin green rope to a second shell, and then a third. Confused, Katniss drew the objects out, wondering how seaweed had made it’s way into her collection. She hadn’t put it there.

 

Once it was free, Katniss held it up, and knew right away who it was from. A thrill raced through her and goosebumps piled on top of her flesh. She lifted the circle and draped it around her neck. It laid perfectly, resting loosely just below the hollow of her throat. She had to find him. To thank him somehow for these gestures. She knew she’d never forget these simple actions from someone who, so apparently, didn’t have much.

 

* * *

 

 

“Bye!” She called after the trio as they left camp. “Be safe!” She had never really said as much to them before, and she hoped she didn’t seem like she was overcompensating, but she really did want them to be safe. It felt like the right thing to say.

 

Finnick had gone through the basics of how to use the gun he left her - how to load the extra bullets should she need them, to leave the safety on until she absolutely needed to shoot, and to aim straight and confident, always looking at where your target is. Not that she needed the mini lesson. She was purposely about to head off into the tropics completely unarmed in search of a pack of monkeys.

 

A voice inside told her it could be suicide, and at the very minimum could cut their trip short for (questionable) medical attention on the mainland. But she had a feeling she wouldn’t need it. He was always watching, and if he wouldn’t show himself to her then she was going to draw him out.

 

After changing into long pants, adding a light jacket over her tank top and slipping her camera over her neck, Katniss set off in the same direction as the others. She wasn’t a novice at following tracks. Her father had taken her many times into the woods back home where they’d tracked all sorts of animals.

 

Katniss kept off their path, staying adjacent so they wouldn’t notice her own prints in the muddy terrain. Finally, she heard what she was looking for. The pack of wild monkeys. They weren’t howling like in the morning. They were grunting, an almost imperceptible sound unless you were close enough. Her heartbeat sped up. Katniss knew this was a risk. Part of her was screaming to turn back, but once her mind was made up, there was no backing out.

 

She crept quietly along the jungle floor, careful not to step on twigs or other things that would bring too much attention until she could locate the pack and assess the situation. If there were too many, she might have to reconsider her plan. Haymitch’s warning rang louder in her ears with every step and perspiration trickled down her brow.

 

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Katniss reached a small, circular clearing. The sun shone down in the center of a ring of trees. She crouched low behind a large bush skirting the edge and surveyed the area. The grunts were few and far between, but almost right on top of her.

 

Out of nowhere, a small monkey landed on the jungle floor and began rolling around. Almost immediately another followed and jumped on top of it. They wrestled like brother and sister, one taking a shot and then running away, while the other pursued. They seemed harmless enough. If these were the monkeys that had chased away three grown men, Katniss would never let them live it down.

 

Back and forth they went, and Katniss watched, mesmerized, forgetting for a blissful moment what she was doing. She responded quickly like any photographer would, bringing her camera up to her eye. She adjusted the focus, and held her finger down for rapid fire shots, wanting to catch every move the playful monkeys made. Too late, she realized they could hear the quick snap of the shutter, and through her lens she could see they had stopped to look in her direction. They zipped back up one of the trees faster than Katniss could remove the camera from in front of her face.

 

Everything fell silent. Eerily so. Limbs frozen, Katniss’s eyes moved upwards, counting the seconds until she thought she would be safe to move out of her hiding place. Nothing. The monkeys had disappeared, probably moved on to a different playground. She was an intruder in their world after all.

 

About to leave her spot, Katniss glanced up quickly and nearly fainted. Monkeys lined the trees directly overhead. The ones she’s seen moments ago must have been babies because these were very real, and very large adults. Probably 5 times the others’ size. There must have been more than fifty pair of eyes on her, so densely crowded together that the brown of their fur cloaked most of the green of the leaves. She wanted to scream, but the giant boulder lodged in her throat blocked any sound from escaping.

 

Katniss tried to move, eyes never leaving the feet of monkey on the lowest limb. He was closest and she dared not look him in the eyes and risk provoking him. One toe in the direction of camp, the direction of a weapon she never wanted to use, brought on a deafening sound as the large mammal bared his fangs to Katniss with a roar, inciting the others to do the same.

 

It was terrifying. Katniss’s eyes zeroed in on the powerful animal’s muscles, contracting and ready to attack. She fell to the ground at the first sign of movement. She covered her head, pulled her knees into her chest and squeezed her eyes tight.

 

The sound of so fierce a group of monkeys grunting and howling made her long for the ocean’s peaceful death. She screamed along with them, and only after a few agonizing seconds had passed, did she dare to open her eyes. Her stomach swooped at the sight of her stranger, his hair flowing down to the middle of his back in waves the color of wheat, every muscle in his tanned back tensed and ready.  

 

Even though he wasn’t facing her, Katniss could tell his stance was protective. Fear for him clamped down on her with jaws of steel, even more so than for her own life. She had caused this, and now if he was hurt, or worse, because of it she would never forgive herself. But what could she do? She was powerless to help him.

 

The man issued a series of grunts, deep and forceful. Was he communicating with them? Katniss only had the faintest clue of what was happening.

 

The pack quieted as the large animal responded with his own grunts, but their body language remained the same. Katniss could feel the tension coiled tight, about to snap from both the animals and the stranger.

 

Suddenly, the animal lunged, swiping a sharp claw at the man. He jumped back, and just as quickly as they had come, they were gone. Katniss looked up to see a few of the monkeys retreating, but she was amazed at how little sound they made.

 

Eyes focused back in front of her, Katniss stood, brushing herself off and breathing deep to slow the adrenaline still racing through her. She had so much to thank him for. He turned when she reached out to touch his shoulder, and her eyes widened in shock at the red gash across his abdomen.

 

 

Back at the camp, Katniss coaxed the man to lay down on her cot, where she covered him up to his waist with her blanket. She’d had to reassure him many times during their long hike back that taking him there was okay. “O-kay,” she’d repeated slowly, gripping his hand in hers. She’d had to remove her jacket to dab the cut several times.

 

Katniss knew they had a first aid kit, and as much as she detested nursing, it was her mother’s profession and she’d taught Katniss a few things through the years. She dug through the plethora of medical items pulling out alcohol wipes and cotton swabs. She began to clean the wound. The man’s stomach tensed at the touch of the burning liquid, and he grabbed her wrist, alarm in his eyes.

 

“O-kay,” she repeated softly, then brushed a hand over his forehead hoping the gesture would help him relax. Looking into his crystal blue eyes she saw apprehension, and she longed to soothe it away.

 

“O-kay,” he repeated, and Katniss smiled at the sound of his voice, deep and sensuous. She wanted to hear it again. She vowed to get him to speak again, but for now she needed to assess how deep the gash was.

 

The blood had finally ceased flowing, and she was able to see that it was about a half inch deep. It would need stitches. She glanced nervously at her stranger, hoping he would understand she was trying to help when she stuck a needle and thread into him.

 

Katniss remembered being nervous when her mother would patch up her injuries as a little girl, and how she would sing to her to keep her mind occupied, so she began to hum a tune. It was a lullaby, but right away he seemed taken with the sound of it. Katniss began to sing the words as she worked to thread the needle. When she was ready, she showed him the small, sharp instrument, and said the word ‘okay’ again.

 

He bit back a groan when she pierced his skin but stayed still, and Katniss was able to finish the stitching quickly. She adhered a bandage to cover the wound, then washed the dried sweat and blood from his stomach, making note of the many ridges that formed his lean abdominal wall. Her fingers drifted over his skin as she worked, marveling at its softness. Katniss was broken from her trance when she heard his breathing deepen.

 

Putting her things away, she helped him sit up on the cot, trying not to think about him naked where she slept. The blanket fell down around his hips, almost exposing him again.

 

“Wait,” she said to him, using her hands in a stopping motion. “I’ll be back.” He may not have understood her, but it helped her to speak to him in complete sentences.

 

Katniss ran to Finnick’s tent and rummaged through his things, deciding on a pair of khaki shorts buried deep in his bag. She hoped he wouldn’t miss them. She was happy to find her stranger, though she couldn’t really call him a stranger at this point, in the place where she’d left him. His eyes found hers immediately, warm and curious. He looked almost childlike, so innocent and unspoiled that Katniss wanted to fold him in her arms.

 

“Pants,” she said, holding them in front of her for his inspection. His lips pursed, as if he were trying out the first letter. Katniss said it again, encouraging him. She slipped them on over her own shorts, “See?”, then removed them, extending the fabric in his direction. Head cocked to the side, brow knit in wonder, he reached for the pants. Katniss looked away when he finally stood, the drapery falling away completely.

 

“Katniss.” Her head snapped around when the sound of her name fell from his lips. It sounded perfect, as though he’d practiced it over and over.

 

“Yes,” she answered with a warm smile. The pants were a good fit, she noticed, although they remained unfastened. Closing the distance she reached out for the waistband. When her fingers grazed the flesh there, fine blond hairs tickling her knuckles, he sucked in a breath. Her eyes lifted to find his, a darker shade of blue than before. Katniss blew out a steadying breath when she felt her pulse speed up.

 

“Katniss,” he said again, capturing her hands in his after she finished hooking the pants together. He placed her hand on his chest causing her blood to whoosh through her veins like water down a slide. “Peet-a.”

 

“Peter?” she copied, her fingers widening of their own accord to splay across his smooth chest. The edge of his beard brushed the back of her hand. She loved the fervor she found in his eyes, but she wanted to see the rest of his face. His cheeks, his chin, the flesh of his lips, the curve of his neck.

 

“Peeta,” he said again. One hand found its way to the space above her heart, flattening his palm over her bare skin. “Katniss.”

 

“Peeta.” The whisper of his name certainly didn’t drown out the sound of her wildly beating heart. She cleared her throat and pulled her hand away, saying his name in a clearer tone. He seemed reluctant to let go. She stepped back to look him over, his eyes doing the same with her. She thought he looked good.

 

The pants sat just below his hips, where the distinct V most men tried desperately for years to achieve disappeared, ending in  above his knees. His calves were solid and defined, and even though the shorts covered his thighs, Katniss already knew how thick they were. Her gaze travelled the length of him. From pecs she could mold her palms around, across broad shoulders, over a ridge of hulking bicep, finally landing on forearms so thick they might split the sleeve of one of Finnick’s shirts.

 

Katniss felt a surge of heat flash through her veins, her eyes slipping closed just for a moment. Imagining. When she opened them, they landed on the one thing that kept her from seeing all of him - his beard. He was looking intently at her when she snapped her fingers and a sly grin took over her face.

 

Pulling him into the open, Katniss stopped in front of Haymitch’s tent. “Wait,” she told him, with one hand on his chest to hold him in place. She emerged from the canvas with scissors, a razor, and a can of gel in her hand, tugging Peeta towards the stream where she sat him down on a large rock. The water was only knee deep there, and Katniss waded in front of him as she cut off chunks of the long, matted beard.

 

Peeta had flinched, pulling back at first, unsure of what Katniss doing. She reassured him by cupping his cheeks, looking directly in his eyes as she said ‘okay’ over again until he relaxed enough for her to continue.

 

Once his beard was considerably shorter, Katniss’s heart began to race again. It was as if she could see the unfolding of a masterpiece, and the thrill of discovering it was barreling through her. She raised her eyes to his for what felt like the millionth time. She loved staring into them, the blue rich enough to make the sky and oceans jealous. They weren’t concentrated on hers, though, like they had been. Instead they were blatantly focused on the rise and fall of her chest as she steadied her excitement with a deep breaths. Instead of being offended, like she normally would have, Katniss found it genuinely intriguing, there was a sweet naivety to his stare.

 

When it was time to begin using the razor, Katniss lathered the gel into a foam in her palms, anxious to have her hands on him again. Covered in a white cloud, she began to skim away the remnants of his beard, each careful stroke revealing skin so fresh and clean Katniss could literally eat off of it. She felt the heat of his breath and the fierceness of his stare as she concentrated on her task, periodically dipping the sharp instrument into the stream, washing away the residue.

 

Finished, Katniss stood to study her stranger, finally able to see him clearly for the first time. She almost fainted headfirst into the flowing waters. He was _magnificent_. His eyes were beautiful but the rest of him was just as captivating - a jaw that was strong and angled, a chin with a cleft so adorable Katniss had to restrain her finger from tracing it. His lower lip was the kind that begged to be drawn between nibbling teeth, tongue caressing the ache left behind. His neck was just as thick and strong as the rest of his body, and Katniss was anything but disappointed. If GQ Magazine knew this man was alive, he’d be a millionaire.

 

“Peeta,” she said his name, unable to tear her eyes away. His gaze was fixed on her as well, and when he moved toward her she saw something in his expression she’d never seen in her husband’s - desire.

 

“Katniss.” He stopped in front of her, hands fisting as if he didn’t know what to do with them. He finally reached for her hand.

 

“Okay?” he asked, taking her hand before leading her to the opposite side of the stream. He must have meant to lead her somewhere, same as she had done with him. So she followed, completely and utterly entranced with him.

 

An hour’s hike later, Katniss walked out onto a massive rock cliff hanging over the ocean. She gasped at the view. She could see leagues of blue ocean in front of her and miles of shoreline on either side. Peeta led her to the edge of the rock and sat down, the slight tug on her arm an invitation to join him. She did, and let her legs dangle over the side next to his. Peeta pointed to the light. “Sun. Go down.”

 

Katniss smiled at him. They were the first words she recognized that were his own. He did - or _had_ \- known at least some English words. “Yes,” she praised. “Sunset.”

 

“Sunset,” he tested the word. Katniss listened as he whispered through the words he knew. _Peeta. Katniss. Okay. Sunset._

 

“Ocean,” she said, pointing into the waves, waiting for him to repeat her. “Sky,” she added after he did, motioning over their heads. They went on for a while, Katniss giving one syllable words for everything that surrounded them, Peeta repeating with the inquisitive nature of a young child.

 

She paused, not wanting to overwhelm him, and their eyes locked. He hadn’t shied away from their stares once since she’d met him, and she didn’t think this time would be any different. His hand was situated on the rock behind her, his arm occasionally brushing her back. They were close. So close. She saw his eyes drift to her lips, and from the corner of her eye she perceived his hand rising to her face. She felt that he was going to press his mouth to hers. And she was going to let him. Here, now, with the sunset and the breeze, and the lazy hum of cresting waves. She closed her eyes, waiting for the soft touch of skin, felt his hand on her neck. It had been so long since she’d been touched by anyone.

 

Katniss was on the edge of releasing a soft moan when she felt something calloused tapping on her neck, causing her delightful haze to diminish. Her eyes fluttered open, landing on his freshly shaven skin. He was looking down, and she realized he was tapping on her necklace. The one he’d left for her this morning. Suddenly aware she’d leaned into him, she pulled back slightly, fingering the shells until she realized he wanted the word for them.

 

Her cheeks felt hot, and she knew it was from embarrassment that she’d almost kissed this poor unsuspecting soul, not from the sun that had been shining on their faces the last hour.

 

“Um, necklace,” she instructed, coughing when her throat caught on the word. “Necklace.”

 

He handled the shells for a little longer, repeating the word a few times before letting go. His hand ghosted along her neck and into her hair. She had to fight the moan rising from within when he tugged on it gently.

 

“H-hair,” she told him, the sensation tying her tongue.

 

“Hair,” he whispered to himself, moving his fingers to her eyes to indicate he wanted to know that as well.

 

“Eyes,” she breathed out, wondering how many body parts he was going to ask about and if she would be able to hold it together if he tried to touch her anyplace below her chin. His fingers drifted down, Katniss sounding out the word for him to echo.

 

“Cheek.”

 

“Nose.”

 

“Chin.”

 

When his finger traced her bottom lip she sucked in air and fought to keep her eyes from rolling back in her head. “Mouth.” If he kept going she might throw herself off the cliff and end this ridiculous frustration.

 

Needing to stop his traverse of her very sensitized skin, Katniss took his hand, teaching him the word in an effort to focus on less sensual parts of the body, but _damn_. Every place on Peeta seemed to spark something in her.

 

The sun was a third of the way set when Katniss bristled, realizing her group would be back at camp soon, and she was a minimum of forty five minutes away. Peeta jumped up when she did, following her in the direction she knew they’d come from. She pushed through a few overgrown leaves dotting the trail that must have been carved out over years of usage.

 

“Katniss… Okay?” Peeta asked. “Wait.” He moved in front of her and used the same stopping motion she had shown him back at camp.

 

“Yes, Peeta. Katniss okay,” she told him, hating the worried look on his face. She pointed back to the cliff “Sunset.” Then in the opposite direction. “Home.” She hoped Peeta understood what she needed - to get back to camp. Fast. He seemed to get it, but Katniss couldn’t wait any longer. She knew he would follow, so she took off at a run down the trail. Just over a ridge, with Peeta trailing behind her, she slipped on a pile of leaves covering soft mud, made from the rains the night before.

 

It all seemed to happen in slow motion - Katniss’s fall to the ground, hearing her name frantic on Peeta’s lips, sliding down the steep embankment, landing at the bottom in a tangled heap.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to my fan-girl-friends and betas, Burkygirl and Xerxia. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts! Do you like where this is going? I love to try to guess where a story is going to go, so I'd be delighted if you all play my little game. What do you think will happen? Follow me on tumblr and come chat! PBS


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - There is a verse in Genesis that talks about how, after creation, (and I’m not debating creation here, just referencing) Adam looked around and saw that every beast had its mate, and he wondered where he fit. He knew he didn’t belong with the animals, but yet there was no other of his kind. I feel like this chapter is that for Peeta. He’s been marooned on an island with no human contact whatsoever for two decades, and he’s finally found his equal. As you are reading I want you to remember that our golden boy hasn’t been raised in society, with its expectations and social taboos. He’s raw and real and human, so I’m writing him that way. I didn’t write him naked for shock value. I wrote him naked because what man can fit into, or would even have, the clothes he was shipwrecked with 20 years later? Possibly I’m not even writing him as raw as I should, given that he’s Peeta. That being said, you should in no way be nervous to read this, but do realize those points. I started this fic as a T, but it’s rated M from here on out. If the change in rating bothers you, message me and I’ll see about posting alternate, T-rated chapters.

 

 

The jungle was calm, the exact opposite of Katniss’s racing mind and thudding heart. She laid still, piecing together what happened. It had all been so sudden. She remembered darting toward camp and then the earth was swirling around her as she tumbled downward, hitting the base of the hill like a rock.

 

Her back hurt, as well as her arms, but that was nothing compared to the throbbing in her left ankle. Katniss groaned in discomfort as she slowly sat up to try and assess her condition and surroundings.

 

“Katniss!”

 

She whipped her head toward the sound of Peeta’s voice, wincing when the scene before her spun in circles. Once the dizziness stopped, she looked up in the direction she’d fallen from and her mouth dropped open. A long trail of gashes in the mud beginning high above her, marked where she hit as she fell. She was lucky that her ankle seemed to be the only serious injury.

 

Peeta was halfway down the slope, watching her intently, his eyes only leaving hers to weave a strong vine through every other tree as he descended. And even then it was just for a moment. When he reached Katniss, he knelt down to inspect her body. A few gasps broke from Katniss’s lips as Peeta moved her limbs around, his fingers sliding over a some tender spots along her arms.

 

She tried to stand up, but Peeta stilled her. “Katniss okay?” he asked. His hands were on her shoulders, gently holding her down. For the most part, she felt alright. There were a few places that hurt, but nothing that seemed unmanageable.

 

“Yes, Peeta,” Katniss answered. He lifted her to her feet, but she crumpled against him with a shout as soon as her throbbing ankle took on weight.

 

“Katniss okay?” he asked again, his arms protectively closing around her. She wanted to say yes, but it was obvious to her, and to Peeta as well, that she wasn’t okay. Katniss reminded herself she had a high tolerance for pain and could most likely climb out of this mini canyon with minimal help. With that thought in mind, she stepped toward the vine Peeta had brought down to help them climb, but more weight on her ankle only sent her to her knees, trying to stifle a cry of pain.

 

Before she could argue, she found herself hoisted up and over one of his broad shoulders, with a view of his backside that, had she not been in pain and slightly annoyed at his caveman response, Katniss would have appreciated. She could do nothing about her current situation, so she positioned her hands on his back to steady the sway of her body as he climbed.

 

At the top, Peeta didn’t put her down, but continued down the trail. “Peeta?” she implored. “Down?” Katniss needed a break from being upside down for the last fifteen minutes, and surely Peeta needed a break as well. He’d just carried the equivalent of a bulk-weight bag of flour up a steep ridge.

 

To Katniss’s relief, Peeta stopped and set her down on the trail. She groaned at the sensation of being righted, and felt the blood begin to drain from her head. Looking at him, Katniss couldn’t believe Peeta wasn’t breathing any harder than he was. “Peeta, are you okay?”

 

He grinned at her and nodded once. Sitting beside her, he gently picked up one arm and began to wipe at her skin, caked in mud. It had already started to dry, and try as he might, he could only clean away so much of it. The jungle was beginning to come alive with the sounds of animals’ evening activities. Most of them fed under the cover of darkness and Peeta seemed anxious to go. He stood, reaching for Katniss’s waist to heave her onto his shoulder again, but she stopped him, pulling him back down.

 

“No.” He looked at her strangely when she turned him around. He complied, although rigidly so. She caught a quick glimpse of his perfectly rounded backside, before pulling herself on to his back. She wrapped her legs around his waist and his arms instinctively vined around her knees. She felt his palms splay over her calves. She didn’t want to be carried upside down anymore, but this position may prove to be her undoing. Arms around his shoulders, breasts pressed against his back, and legs squeezing his hips. After being situated, Peeta started back down the trail.

 

“Home?” Katniss asked him. She hoped he understood she needed to get back to camp. If the others had made it back already and noticed her missing, they would surely come looking. How could she explain it to Peeta? She knew she would have to, and soon, but there was still so much to find out. And she didn’t want to do that in the company of their prying eyes.

 

Peeta grunted what sounded like a contradiction. “Peeta, home.” Katniss said sternly. She felt his head shake as he continued tromping through the jungle. Katniss’s had no idea where they were headed, and her stomach clenched in dread at what the aftermath of her being gone so late could bring.

 

Soon she heard the sound of running water, and at first she thought Peeta had brought her back to the stream. But as they grew closer, the sound amplified and Katniss knew the waters in the stream by her camp didn’t run that quickly.

 

She could see the ground change from dampened soil to pebbles and larger rocks, and she knew they were on the edge of a water source. Peeta lowered her onto a boulder at the water’s edge and Katniss glanced around. It couldn’t be the same stream she had washed in by camp. The banks were further apart, which meant the canopy of trees had opened up. She could see the appearance of a few stars in the darkened blue sky above.

 

Her focus turned to Peeta, who had unzipped the shorts she’d borrowed for him and was pushing them down his narrow hips. Katniss sucked in a breath and turned her face back to the stars, though she wasn’t seeing them anymore. He bent over next to her and tenderly slid her Tevas from her feet, careful not cause her any more pain.

 

She felt him straighten and she chanced a look at him. She was eye level with his chest, watching his pectorals move as his arms lowered to her sides. Instinctively she clenched her elbows to her waist when she felt the upward tug of her tank top. The sound of her name falling so carefully from his lips pulled her gaze to his.

 

His eyes were searching, honest and completely trustworthy. She felt safe, if a little awkward, and so she relaxed her grip on the material. It was carefully lifted over her head  and Katniss held onto a gasp when her nipples were exposed to the cooling jungle air. She hadn’t worn a bra since she’d been on the island, so there was nothing to hide her mediocre breasts from sight. She looked away, folding her arms loosely across her chest, trying to maintain a sense of decency, and a little pride. But Peeta’s hands at the waistline of her pants had her reaching for the steadiness of the rock underneath her.

 

She hesitantly raised her hips as he dragged the material down her mud-covered legs, mindful of slipping it over her ankle. She followed his gaze to the white underwear that had been drawn just past her hip bones, still covering her most intimate place. When he reached for them she stopped his hands out of impulse.

 

“Okay,” Peeta said, looking her directly in the eyes. He used the phrase over and over just as Katniss had done to reassure him when she had cut away his beard. Slowly she pulled her hands back and Peeta slipped his fingers into her underwear. A small sigh escaped Katniss’s lips and she looked away, a deep blush settling over her olive skin. It wasn’t just that she was embarrassed to be naked in front of him. That was only a small part of it. It was more about what he was stirring inside of her that made her apprehensive. She knew what it meant, but she wasn’t sure if he did.

 

When the panties were dropped onto the ground, Katniss was completely bare save for the seashell necklace. She tried not to watch him, but she could feel his eyes on her. She was thankful for the minimal light of the evening. It provided a slight veil of coverage for her nakedness. But before she had time to overthink it, he hoisted her into his arms effortlessly and carried her into the water. His naked body against hers had Katniss’s mind whirling with the intimacy of it all. It was warm and solid and so, so wonderful.

 

When he’d waded knee deep, he sat down, settling Katniss in his lap. She told herself it wasn’t a big deal. That she’d had her head in his naked lap five days ago. But she could feel his semi-hardened flesh pressed up against her ass.

 

Water fell over Katniss’s shoulders and trickled down her arms as Peeta cupped the water in his hands, the cool rivulets trickling over her breasts, arousing her even more. She watched his hands travel her goose-pebbled arms, pausing to rub at particularly dirty patches until her skin was clean and pink. He did the same to her petite shoulders and neck, then swiped at few streaks of mud just above her left breast and she bit her lip hard to keep herself from moaning.

 

Peeta’s hand trailed along the thick rope of hair Katniss always wore braided down the middle of her back. He tugged at the end, silently asking her to remove the band. When she raised her arms to do so, she saw his eyes dart to her breasts, which were lifted with the motion. His blatant stare made them tingle and Katniss wondered if he’d ever seen breasts before. The look on his face was more wonderment than salacious leering. It gave Katniss a small boost of confidence that she didn’t normally have in an unclothed state.

 

He tipped her back into the water to wet her hair, and even though she knew that she could have done all of this herself, she allowed him to lay her back in the water, her hair floating freely around her while his fingers massaged her scalp. The water was silky and warm, and when combined with Peeta's gentle touch, Katniss's apprehensions melted away, only to be replaced with a growing sense of exhilaration.

  
When he was done, he lifted her from his lap and sat her next to him, so that he could wash his own body. He wasn’t as dirty as Katniss, but she wanted him to share in this experience with her, wanted her hands on him, too. Just as he had done for her. Gingerly, Katniss moved behind him, their eyes meeting briefly as he looked over his shoulder to see what she was doing. She cupped the water in her hands, letting it run down the muscled lines of his back. Katniss’s attention was mesmerized by his powerful, toned flesh and the way each muscle flexed and rippled like wind through a wheat field with his movements.

 

Peeta stilled as Katniss rubbed tight circles across his back. She kneaded his flesh like dough, pressing her fingers into the solid tissue of his shoulders and down the edges of his spine. She felt the vibrations of his groan and saw his head tip back slightly. After a few moments, Peeta moved deeper into the river. Katniss’s hands followed him, not ready to let go.

 

He disappeared under the water, only to pop back up seconds later, water running in sheets over his chest and washboard abs, face tilted to the moonlight, eyes closed and lips parted. His biceps bulged as he pushed his soaked hair back. The water sat just below the V of his hips, hiding the part of him that would have sent Katniss plunging into a tailspin. She was already dangling by her fingertips. He looked like a God, one that would surely be worshipped if the island had any kind of human population, and Katniss would likely be among them.

 

His eyes snapped open, finding hers immediately. He waded toward her, approaching her purposefully, and Katniss’s stomach swooped at the intensity she saw in his expression.He leaned down, grabbing her waist and Katniss knew he was about to heft her over his shoulder for the third time that day.

 

Peeta sat down in front of her on the rock, his back to her, reaching for her legs and pulling them around his waist. It must be time to go, Katniss thought. She complied, and this time, without the barrier of clothing, the soft slap and slide of their wet bodies together as he walked quickly toward home would be her undoing, she was sure.

 

“Wait!” she cried as he took off down the trail. “Our clothes.” Peeta turned, glancing back to where she was pointing at the small pile on the ground. A grumble sounded into the night air as he strode over to the pieces littering the jungle floor, as if they were cumbersome and not worth the time it took to gather them. Katniss felt herself dip as he bent down. It was as if she weighed nothing, the way he so easily crouched and then stood, returning quickly to the path.

 

 

Katniss was so turned around she had no idea where they were. She knew she couldn’t show up at camp like this, naked and being carried piggy-back by a strange man. She hoped Peeta would stop soon and let her dress herself before they got too close. That and the fact of her bare breasts rubbing against his skin threatening to send her into overload. She couldn't squeeze her thighs together for any relief because his hips were nestled deliciously between them.

 

She looked around, trying to breathe normally and think of something completely nonsexual. It was dark, and becoming very dense with trees and brush. Katniss could barely see anything. She was impressed that Peeta could find his way so stealthily and it made her wonder how long he’d been living here. How had he come to be on the island? Was it by choice? Had he been left behind? Finnick had seemed convinced they were alone here.

 

They slipped between some overgrown moss and dangling vines into a cave, and Peeta finally set her down on something soft and leafy, dropping the clothes next to her. Complete darkness surrounded her on three sides. The only faint light she could make out was coming from the mouth of the cave. Peeta moved away from her and started to rustle about the space. Moments later a tiny spark inside a circular structure made of stones caught her attention. It grew in size until a small fire lit the area with an intimate glow.

 

She could tell right away it was his home. “Peeta home?” she asked him, tucking her legs up to hide the thatch of curls between her legs as she tugged the dirty tank over her head. Peeta grunted, watching her cover up. He made no move to clothe himself, instead choosing to sit across from her Indian-style.

 

“Peeta home,” he repeated, continuing to watch with displeasure as she tugged her panties over her hips. Not wanting to offend him further Katniss left the stained pants, which had received the worst of the fall, on the ground. She could feel his stare and needed to think of something besides his roving gaze, so she busied herself looking around.

 

Toward the back of the cave sat two old crates, one covered in bottles of all shapes and sizes, some glass and some plastic. It seemed to be a shrine of sorts. The other was less cluttered, more particular with its contents. A thick, leather bound book, a knife - Katniss recognized the shape and the glint of the metal blade right away - and something small that sparkled in the dim light. She was curious as to what trinkets Peeta would keep, but she didn’t want to seem rude. It was his home after all, and where she came from one didn’t just traipse nosily around another’s abode. If he wanted her to know, he would show her.

 

Katniss turned her attention to Peeta as he stood, moving toward the mouth of the cave. “Where are you going?” she panicked, forgetting he didn’t understand her. He looked back at her, confused and she tried to stand on her good ankle. Before she could get her feet under her, Peeta spoke.

 

“Wait,” he said, using the gesture for ‘stop’ Katniss had taught him. Peeta disappeared after she sat back down, and she hoped he wouldn’t be gone too long. If the monkeys or some other dangerous animal she hadn’t encountered yet sniffed her out, she’d be a sitting duck in this place. Distraction was, again, necessary, and she noticed the flame had grown stronger, drawing her eyes the cave’s walls. She gawked, breathless. She had never seen anything so stunningly raw. It was like a prehistoric art museum with drawings covered in all different colors, from browns to reds to subtle shades of yellows and pinks. The luminous flame bounced off the walls bringing the paintings to life, and everywhere she looked there was a different image.

 

She couldn’t see them all, but she was surprised at how familiar a few of them were. A boat, so similar to the one she’d arrived on with four people on the beach. One with reddish hair, another with a long, dark braid. She gasped, realizing he’d captured the day they landed on the shore. The one next to it was their camp. All four of them were sitting around the fire, but while the other subjects were obscure, she was vivid, the focus of the picture. Her eyes quickly scanned the rest - the ocean, a bobbing, dark spot in the middle of a sunny day. Next to that was the top of her head as she hovered over him, looking down his body the day he’d rescued her. The next was her in the orange sundress, then her sleeping in her tent, the vantage point from up high. It seemed that her sneaking suspicion that she was being watched was completely accurate. He’d been there the whole time watching their every move, _her_ every move. If any other man had been observing her this way, she would think he was a stalker. She’d be terrified. But this was Peeta, and she guessed he’d been overcome by curiosity, and possibly attraction to her. The idea was flattering and more than a little exciting.

 

Katniss decided she would have to make sense of her emotions later, so she tucked them away as Peeta re-entered the cave bearing an armload of fruit. Her stomach rumbled at the sight. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was and any trepidations about his nakedness or her predicament vanished at the sight of food. Peeta arranged the harvest in front of her like an offering - two coconuts, a pineapple, and a bushel of bananas. She stared at the food in awe and  disbelief at how quickly he’d been able to gather it. They were all tree-bearing fruits, which meant Peeta must be an excellent climber.

 

Peeta separated one of the bananas from the stem and thrust it at Katniss. “Eat,” he said simply. Another word she was surprised he knew. Of course, if he’d been watching them this whole time then he was bound to have heard some of their conversations. Katniss could tell Peeta was bright and intelligent.

 

She inhaled the banana, the fruit sweeter than she’d ever tasted, and she greedily reached for a second. Slower this time, she savored it, finding Peeta’s eyes fixed curiously on her, grinning crookedly. His smile lit up the dim space and Katniss mused about how attractive he was. Her gaze followed him as he retrieved the knife she’d glimpsed earlier, and she watched as he expertly passed the blade across a smooth stone a few times, then cut into the prickly flesh of the pineapple, dividing it up between them after cutting away the inedible parts.

 

Then he carved a triangular hole into the coconut, and immediately the cave erupted with the scent. She loved the tropical smell of coconut and stopped devouring the juicy, yellow fruit to breathe it in deeply. Peeta tipped back the coconut, clear liquid pouring into his mouth, then handed it to Katniss. She did the same and relished the sweet liquid sliding down her throat, which she hadn’t realized was parched until now.

 

They devoured the rest of the haul, and when Katniss was sufficiently stuffed and rehydrated, she leaned against the cave wall at her back, Peeta copying her posture on the opposite wall. He watched her long enough that she had to look away, like she always did under the intensity of his stare.

 

Finding her hands sticky with the sweet juice from the pineapple, Katniss licked it from her fingers in an effort to clean up. She smiled at the thought of how primitively domestic it all was. She looked up to thank Peeta, but the smile faded quickly when she saw his expression - ardent, eyes half-lidded and fixed on her, one leg drawn up, the other resting in front of him. Her gaze traveled to where his hand gripped himself, and a sharp breath invaded her lungs. In the shadows of the firelight she watched his palm slide up and down his thick shaft. His thumb skimmed over the tip and he hissed, the sound igniting a low burn in her belly.

 

Part of her screamed to look away, give him some privacy, but she was riveted to the scene. His actions were so brazen, and yet so natural and candid. So erotic. It made her want to act out as well. To touch herself. To touch _him._ Her nipples peaked into tight buds, surely visible through the white fabric, and her inner thighs grew slick as his hand moved faster and his head tilted back against the cave wall, eyes slipping closed. His jaw slackened and his mouth hung open in what Katniss knew was sheer pleasure. She continued to watch as his body jerked, reaching its peak. His hand lost its rhythm and her name crossed his lips as part of a groan that seemed to be pulled from deep in his gut as spurts of semen rained down on his abs.

 

His body went limp, blissfully sated, and an awkwardness crept over Katniss. What should she do? Should she look away and pretend nothing happened? He had seen her watching him. He had to know she heard him say her name, as though she was giving him the single greatest bodily pleasure a man could receive. Peeta reached for the shorts he’d worn that day and wiped them across his stomach, clearing the evidence, then he came to sit beside her on the thick, leafy bedding. He laid down, pulling Katniss down with him. She needed to resist. She needed to get back to camp.

 

“Peeta? Katniss go home,” she told him.

 

“Katniss sleep,” he responded, and Katniss realized he had no intention of taking her back tonight. She was certain she’d be lost or worse if she tried to go it on her own, but surely the others were out looking for her by now.

 

“Katniss go home,” she relayed more urgently, sitting back up.

 

“Peeta home,” he said sleepily. “Katniss home.” He tugged her back down and wrapped an arm around her, effectively locking her into his embrace. She didn’t mind the position so much as the daunting feeling that nothing good would come of her not returning to camp. At the sound of Peeta’s soft snores, she knew there was nothing she could do until morning.

 

 

Katniss couldn’t sleep. There were so many things going through her mind, and she found the frantic search party was the least of them. Peeta’s hand brought himself to climax over and over in her head. And every time it replayed her body drew closer and closer to an edge that she wanted desperately to jump off. With Peeta asleep snugly behind her, she wondered if she should enjoy her hand as much as he had enjoyed his. Obviously he wasn’t ashamed of it. Why should she be? And her name on his breath as he came was clear indication he had been thinking of her. It had been so long, and she ached for release.

 

Cautiously, Katniss dipped her hand below her panty line, parting her thighs just enough to reach the pearl of pleasure she knew how to manipulate just right. It wouldn’t take long, she was so wound up. At the first touch of her fingers she stifled a groan, gathering the slickness on her fingers before dragging them back up to where she wanted it most.

 

The moment she touched herself she felt Peeta stir behind her. She froze, wondering if he had heard something. An arm draped lazily over her, pulling her into his still naked body. She groaned in frustration. This was definitely more than she could handle. Her own fingers suddenly seemed inadequate at the thought of the pleasure his could bring to her.

 

Katniss felt his face bury into the back of her hair, nuzzling her neck. He breathed in her scent, whispering her name softly against her skin, his lips providing a sensual caress that sent chills throughout her entire body. She felt like ice and fire all at once, and had no idea how the two could coexist except to torment her.

 

Her body rolled over, almost of its own accord, until she was on her back, Peeta’s arm now draped over her ribs, just underneath her breasts. When she looked at his face, she was startled to see the whites of his eyes. He was awake, eyes boring into hers. He was so close, just a breath away and his skin radiated warmth and smelled like the jungle after a cleansing rain.

 

Katniss reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, and then slid her hand into the luxurious strands behind his neck and closed the inch that separated them. She brushed her lips against the ones she had meditated upon for days. They were deliciously rough, but slack, as if he wasn't sure what to do with them. His breath hitched and she saw his eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t seem to be in distress. He pulled back, studying her, his eyes traveling back and forth between her eyes and lips before he descended on them. He pressed them to hers and held them there, unmoving, and in that moment Katniss knew he had never been with a woman. She was sorely lacking in experience, but if this was what he wanted she would have to teach him everything. A thrill shot through her at the journey it would take them on.

 

She started by puckering her lips and pulling back. Then she pressed them back to his in the same manner. She whispered the word ‘kiss’, and he mimicked her action. The texture of his lips sent a shot of arousal to her already soaking center. It felt better than she thought it would.

 

She broke away again, but he chased her with his mouth, wanting more. She grinned, and opened her mouth just enough to suck his bottom lip in, then released it. Peeta grunted his approval and returned the gesture, capturing her lower lip with his. He did it a second time, and she could feel the tip of his tongue graze her plump flesh. A sigh escaped her and she impulsively licked his lips in reverence. His grunts became deep groans as he copied her. She caught his tongue inside her mouth and suckled it gently, caressing it with her own.

 

Peeta fused his mouth to hers, and she parted her lips. He followed her lead, slipping his tongue into her mouth again and again, exploring her vigorously. The sound of wet lips and mild panting echoed off the stone walls of the cave. Peeta's kisses became insistent and rough, and Katniss broke away for a breath. His eyes were wild, fixed on her as though he were desperate for more. She brought him back to her, but instead of her lips reaching for his, she slowed their pace, planting soft, open-mouthed kisses on his face. She started at that perfect cleft in his chin, then turned his head to continue along his jaw. When she got to his ear, she sucked on the fleshy lobe and smiled when he groaned loudly. She felt his hips buck into her side, and he pulled away, eager to put his latest lesson into practice on Katniss.

 

Peeta started at her chin, nudging Katniss’s head to the side with his nose as he rained sensual kisses across her jaw, stopping to suck her earlobe into his mouth just as she’d shown him. The wet sound he made as he released it sent a jolt of pleasure between her legs. His lips traveled down her neck, stopping at the base of her throat. She felt his tongue dart out to wet her skin and she let out a moan as her hands slid into his hair. He did it again, and out of sheer need, Katniss pushed his head lower.

 

Peeta’s soft lips and hot breath started an enticing trail that stopped abruptly when he encountered the fabric of her tank. He grumbled his disapproval of her covering, and brought his hand to rest on her stomach. His rough palm sent shivers through her, splaying across her waist as he dipped his hand underneath her shirt. He looked up at her. “Katniss okay?” He asked huskily, his eyes entreating hers for permission. The fact that he sensed a need to ask endeared him to Katniss all the more. As if he wasn’t already charming enough.

 

“Hell, yes,” she breathed, disoriented. Peeta’s brow knit together and Katniss knew he’d not understood. To answer him, she reached for the hem and dragged the top over her head, tossing it aside. Peeta’s eyes were hungry as he took in her bare chest and Katniss had never felt so wanted in her life. She squirmed under his hand as it slid up her belly, torturously so, experiencing for himself every inch of her skin. Her breathing was shallow and tiny whimpers escaped her as she anticipated the first touch of his hands to her breasts.

 

His hand stilled under her left breast and she thought she might have to move his hand herself, but then her back bowed as his thumb passed over the peak. “ _Fuck_ ,” she cursed at the pleasure just that one touch sent through her body.

 

“Fu- _ck_ ,” Peeta repeated, testing the word as he cupped a small mound with one hand. He squeezed and Katniss urged him on, covering his hand with hers, showing him what she liked. His hands were amazing, but she needed more, so she rolled him onto his back and bent her head down to his chest, dragging her tongue over his nipples. She laved them with her tongue, sucking and eventually teasing him with a bite. He was watching, feeling, learning, all while his hands skimmed her arms and tangled into her hair. And then suddenly she was on her back, his mouth descended over one breast as he did the same to her. His tongue felt ethereal, circling her nipple, and when his teeth grazed over it, she almost lifted completely off the ground, the pleasure was so intense. It felt so necessary, so _primal._

 

Katniss shifted his head to the other breast, encouraging him to lavish them with equal attention. He was already excelling at it. Her hands drifted over his shoulders and as far down his back as she could reach. He shifted into her and another whimper left her lips when she felt his hardened member against her thigh. Peeta must have felt it as well, and his hips began a slow, natural bucking rhythm into her leg. She wanted to reach down, grip him in her hand. Feel the silky, warm texture of his erection.

 

Katniss was breathing hard, Peeta’s gasps matching her own. She didn’t know if she could teach him how to touch her. He had done it to himself earlier, so she reasoned she probably shouldn’t be ashamed of doing it now. Her hands left his skin and traveled down her own body, invading the scrap of fabric that covered her aching mound.

 

Peeta’s mouth lifted from her breast, leaving it cold and lonely. His head followed her motion and he sat up, watching as though what he was learning was a matter of life or death. He reached for her hand, then yanked it away as his attention snapped toward the mouth of the cave.

 

Katniss was so heady with the lust of the moment that she hadn’t heard anything. Peeta scrambled up quickly, moving to poke his head out of the cave’s opening. Katniss sat up, perking her ears, and she could faintly make out the sound of her name hanging in the air. They weren’t close, but they were out there in the dark, among the animals that could tear them to shreds, and it was because of her. She had to go.

 

Reaching for her pants, Katniss pulled them on hastily, wincing as she tweaked her ankle. She was up on her good leg and hobbling toward the exit when Peeta noticed her. He picked her up swiftly and set her back on the bed of leaves.

 

“Katniss, no. Katniss, wait,” he said as he knelt in front of her. Katniss was shocked at how pleading his words sounded, and her heart broke as she came to understand how lonely he must have been all these years.

 

“Peeta,” she murmured, cupping his face in her hands, connecting their gazes. “No.” She wished he understood more words and that she could communicate more than just rejection. She wanted him to know that this was best. That he could be hurt if they found him. She needed to be sure her Uncle, and Finnick and Marvel knew about Peeta and how he’d taken care of her before they found him. How could she communicate that?

 

She took his hand and placed it over her heart, just as she had the first day, then covered it with her hand, then placed her other over his own heart. “Katniss and Peeta, always.” She didn’t know of another way to tell him she would come back. That this wasn’t the end. That she cared and wouldn’t abandon him. “Always,” she said again, bringing his lips to hers for a soft kiss. It was sweet and simple, and left a promise between them.

 

“Always,” he whispered the word, and she felt his stare deep in her soul. “Always.”  He hooked his hands under her knees and around her back, lifting her easily as she wound her arms around him. She laid her head in the crook of his neck, allowing her lips to brush the skin there. Too soon, he set her down on the jungle floor. She felt a drop of something wet slide down her cheek, and she wondered if it was beginning to rain again.

 

“Katniss. Home.” His voice was strained as he combed his fingers through her hair, bending down to plant a kiss to her lips one last time before backing into the brush. Katniss tasted salt and strongly debated calling him back. To hell with the search party. She wanted to be with Peeta. But she knew it had to be this way if she wanted to keep him safe, and so she hollered her Uncle’s name until they found her, frantic and out of breath, pistols cocked in case of trouble.

  
Finnick, the strongest of the group, didn’t hesitate to scoop Katniss into his arms to transport her back to camp. The entire way all she could think about was how much more she wished the shoulder her head rested on was Peeta’s.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks again to my awesome betas! They talk me off some ledges with this fic. Please talk to me! Pbg


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so glad that people love this story! I want to thank my betas - Burkygirl and Xerxia, Mega-aulover for the idea and loving-mellark for the banner! Happy reading!

Katniss lay awake, staring through the sheer ceiling of her tent into the trees. She was in big trouble with her Uncle. He’d announced, just before Finnick had unceremoniously dumped her onto her cot still dressed in her muddy clothing, that he’d deal with her in the morning. His tone had been gruff and full of dreadful promise. But Katniss knew she would have done it all over again. It would probably be wise for her Uncle to leave her with a babysitter from now on, because she planned to be with Peeta every chance she got. 

He was captivating, mysterious and unrefined and almost completely untouched by the cynicism of the rest of the rest of the world.  _ And his kisses _ . Even as inexperienced as they were the thought of his embrace brought an unexpected flicker of heat to her belly. There was no question as to his intelligence. How else could he have survived alone in this jungle for so long? She knew there would probably be many from the outside world, or  _ inside _ world depending on whose eyes you looked through, who would see him as a wild creature. Someone to be cultured and tamed. But she didn’t want to tame him. She wanted to  _ experience _ him. To know the wildness of the blond-haired, blue-eyed stranger-that-wasn’t-a-stranger-anymore. He had saved her twice, taken care of her like she was his, and then made her heart ache with an unexpected loss when he let her go, even though it was what she’d asked of him. 

Katniss’s body began to ache when she remembered the hunger she’d witnessed in his eyes. How he’d pleaded with just a look for knowledge of how to touch her. How he’d looked at her with such awe, a gentle claim in his expression. And how she hadn’t thought once of telling him anything but yes. She was surprised by her own behaviour. It wasn’t like her to be so open and trusting, but when she was with Peeta everything was different. She couldn’t find it in herself be closed off. There was definitely an element of danger in spending time with him; it just wasn’t the physical kind. 

Katniss rolled over in her cot for the millionth time, finally deciding to rise before the monkeys instead of waiting on them to howl her awake. She hadn’t had a wink of sleep. Flipping back and forth between thoughts of Peeta had left her frustrated and wide-eyed. Peeta and the sunset on the cliff, Peeta bathing her in the river, Peeta in the cave, thick and hard and calling her name. Peeta, Peeta, Peeta! She’d brought herself to completion twice, but even that had brought her no relief. She was behaving like some horny teenager. Katniss stepped from her cot and fought back a yelp when her foot hit the hard floor of her tent. Thoughts of Peeta had pushed her ankle injury from her mind. It was just a sprain, but sometimes those took forever to heal, and they sure hurt like the dickens. She waited for the pain to subside, then limped out of her tent. Sitting beside the long-doused fire, Katniss wondered if Peeta was watching. Had he slept at all? Had he thought about her the same way she’d thought about him? 

As if Peeta could read her mind, Katniss heard his voice as her name floated through the trees, a whisper when it reached her. The jungle was still slumbering away when she caught sight of him, gracefully descending the tree closest to her tent. Before she could stand up he was kneeling in front of her, saying her name softly. His hands were in her hair, on her arms, at her waist. He seemed so wounded that all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him, so she did. 

Katniss could feel his breath on her neck as he hugged her tight. She scratched his back lightly, eliciting soft grunts from him. Her fingers scraped fabric at his waist and she pulled back to inspect him. In the dark she couldn’t see much, but she could tell he’d worn the shorts she’d borrowed from Finnick. A smile spread across her face at the gesture she was sure was meant for her. 

“Kiss?” he asked quietly, and Katniss smiled even wider, feeling her face heat up. Cupping his cheeks she pulled him closer, but Peeta flinched before their lips made contact and Katniss let go of him, whirling her head around at the noise of her Uncle kicking around in his tent. He wouldn’t be out for another fifteen minutes at least, but when Katniss turned back around to reassure Peeta, he was already gone. 

Katniss’s groan of disappointment and the first shafts of light cut through the jungle simultaneously. She had no idea when she’d get to see him again, but their brief interaction was definitely not enough for her. 

The monkeys started their morning performance as Haymitch moseyed out of his tent and began making coffee. She didn’t look directly at him, nor he at her, even though she could feel him side-eye her every now and again. The tension between them was thick. He was pissed. 

“Look, I’m sorry,” Katniss broke the silence first, wanting to get the yelling over with, but hoping an apology might calm the throbbing vein in his forehead. He scoffed.

“Sorry? You could have been killed!” He was whispering, but his tone conveyed he’d rather be yelling. “Do you know how stubborn you are? All I asked was for you to stay at camp and keep some protection with you. Now I feel like it’s ‘bring your teenage niece to work month’ and I’m trying to keep you out of trouble, but instead of my job being on the line,” his voice rose with every word, “it’s your life!” He took a moment to calm himself before continuing. 

“You endangered everyone, Katniss. not just yourself. This was supposed to be an easy arrangement. You take pictures, have a little adventure, and stay out of danger-”

“It still is!” Katniss blurted, unable to stand the reprimand anymore. “I’m sorry, okay? I made a mistake and I swear it won’t happen again. I’ll stay near camp from now on. You have my word.” 

“Where’d you go anyway?” Haymitch asked, breezing over Katniss’s agreement not to wander off again. 

“Just exploring. I found a cliff at the end of a trail, a-”

“A trail? You found a trail on a deserted island?” he quizzed her, eyes narrowing suspicion. Katniss froze, but recovered quickly with the first thing that popped into her head.

“Yeah, probably from the monkeys.” 

“The monkeys use the trees to get around,” Haymitch countered, waving his finger upward. “Which means there are predators here, Katniss. If I don’t have your word you’ll stay at camp then I’ll have to leave Marvel here with you.”  _ Ugh. Again with the Marvel threats. _ Marvel probably wasn’t unpleasant to be around, but he was standoff-ish with her and always seemed to be stuck up Finnick’s ass. Katniss grimaced at the mere idea of the dull and awkward hours in Marvel’s presence. The fact that she wouldn’t be able to see Peeta sealed the deal. 

“No more leaving. Pinky promise,” Katniss held out her little finger, but her Uncle snubbed it with an eye roll. 

“No need for such drastic measures, Sweetheart.” Haymitch quipped, scratching his stubble. He fetched Katniss a mug and poured coffee into it. Katniss knew this was his sign of good faith and that all was forgiven. Haymitch never could stay mad at her for long. She was his favorite niece after all. 

Finnick came out a few moments later, followed by Marvel. They both gave her the cold shoulder. Remembering her Uncle’s words about hers not being the only life she’d endangered, Katniss spoke up after they sat down. “I’m sorry I… put everyone in harm’s way. I won’t do it again.” 

Finnick raised his eyebrows, tossing her a dubious look. Marvel just nodded, keeping his eyes on his coffee, and if she hadn’t been staring straight at him she would have missed it. They both looked exhausted with dark circles under their eyes and slouched shoulders. She didn’t envy their looming trek through the jungle with such low energy. 

“We’re staying at camp today. We need a day off,” Haymitch announced to the small group as he leaned back in his chair. Katniss tried hard to conceal her shock, then her disappointment. If they took the day off, she wouldn’t be able to see Peeta. 

“In that case,” Finnick announced, “I’m going back to bed.”  He disappeared into his tent, leaving Haymitch, Marvel and Katniss sipping their coffees in silence. 

The day dragged on at a torturous pace, since she’d had to spend it in the company of people other than Peeta. Katniss was exhausted by dinner time, and had just barely enough energy to consume the soup Haymitch had warmed over the campfire. After excusing herself and graciously refusing Finnick’s offer to help her to her tent, Katniss collapsed onto her cot, barely blinking twice before she was asleep.

* * *

 

Katniss awoke with a shout from the nightmare. This time it wasn’t just the ocean that was trying to claim her. There were fanged monkeys and cliffs giving way under her feet. No place seemed safe, except -

“Katniss?” Finnick’s voice echoed across the camp.

“Nightmare,” Katniss hollered back. One of these nights Finnick wouldn’t say anything at all. He may even learn to sleep through it like the other two seemed to do. Katniss breathed deep and clutched the blanket to her chest in an effort to be ground herself in reality. She longed for the safety of Peeta’s arms, but there was no way she could make it to his cave with her ankle, and even if she could, she wasn’t sure where on the island it was located.  _ But maybe _ …

Katniss quietly left her cot, slowly unzipped the tent closure, and limped back to the place where Peeta had come to her earlier. It was sprinkling and pitch dark. Katniss half-hoped he’d taken cover in his cave, but she didn’t wait long before he showed himself, a dark shadow emerging from thick foliage. 

They stared at each other as the breeze picked up through the trees, neither one of them moving or daring to speak in case they drew unwanted attention. The gentle patter of raindrops trickling down from leaf to leaf intensified until they fell onto skin and hair and eyelashes, forcing Katniss and Peeta to take cover in her tent. Katniss tried not to squeal when he scooped her into his arms and stalked in the direction she pointed, ducking inside the canvas covering. She motioned for him to set her down on the cot, and she caught his hand when he stepped back. 

“Stay?” Katniss asked, tugging him closer as she laid down. She moved to the edge and patted the open space next to her. Peeta hesitated briefly, gave a fleeting glance toward the opening, but Katniss wasn’t afraid. Other than Finnick’s misguided attempt to rescue her after her first nightmare, none of the men came into her tent.  “Peeta stay…” Katniss asked again, her eyelids heavy with sleep. 

Climbing onto the cot and stretching out beside Katniss, Peeta rolled onto his side to face her. She wrapped an arm around his waist and buried her face in his chest, the light dusting of fine hairs tickling her cheeks. She inhaled the calming scent that was inherently Peeta - all jungle tropics and freshness and promise. 

“Peeta stay,” she heard him answer. The phrase drew a smile across Katniss’s face, and before she fell into the best sleep she’d had in a long time, she could swear she heard him echo the word she’d taught him the day before. 

“Always.”

* * *

 

“Sweetheart? You getting up?” Haymitch’s voice brought Katniss out of the deep slumber she’d been in. _ Peeta!  _ her mind screamed as she groped for him next to her. She needed to tell him to hide. Her hand sailed through air, hitting the cot and she wondered if it had all been a dream. Maybe she had hallucinated his warmth and comfort beside her in the night. 

“Katniss? You in there?” Her Uncle’s voice seemed to grow agitated and the zipper began to slide up.

“Yes,” she replied hoarsely. “Be out in a minute.” 

“We’ll be leaving soon. There’s some oats in the pot and enough coffee left for one cup. It may not be hot, though,” Haymitch informed her. 

“Okay. Thank you,” Katniss replied, laying her face in the pillow. She breathed deeply, still groggy and her eyes flew open when she drew in Peeta’s comforting scent. It hadn’t been a dream. Suddenly possessed by the idea that he might still be nearby, Katniss was soon hobbling around, getting dressed and waving goodbye to her party, promising to stay near camp. 

“I’ll have dinner ready when you get back!” she called, letting the words slip out accidentally. She hoped it didn’t seem to eager. 

Katniss tested her ankle a bit as she made her way to the chair near the firepit, grabbing the back for support. It was still tender, but she could get around a little faster today. 

“Peeta,” she called quietly after grabbing onto the back of the chair for support. She looked around and then up into the tree he’d come down from the morning before. She heard nothing. Saw nothing. “Peeta.” This time she was a little louder, her group probably far enough away not to hear.

“Katniss.” When his voice came from behind her, she twisted instinctively toward it. Pain shot through her ankle and she almost fell. 

Peeta stood before her, and in the light of day Katniss wondered how she could have forgotten already the hard planes and strong ridges of his body. He looked like an angel with the sun’s rays streaming down behind him, illuminating his blond hair. She let her eyes roam his broad shoulders and strong arms, pausing to linger at his well-defined abs before lifting them back to his face. Knowing what was underneath the shorts he still wore didn’t stop her mind from thinking about it. 

“Sit?” Katniss asked him, pointing to her chair and motioning him over. When he was close enough, she reached for his hand and guided him into the chair. “Wait,” she instructed him with a smile before grabbing the empty bowl that had been left out for her. She hobbled over to the pot of oatmeal and dipped out a generous serving. Turning around, Katniss ran into Peeta’s solid chest almost dumping the warm contents onto his bare skin.

“Oh!” she yelped in surprise. 

“I... help,” Peeta said slowly, as though he was trying to remember something. Katniss’s heart melted at the earnestness in his expression. She could hear the question in his tone, clearly wondering if the words he used were correct. She barely had a chance to nod before he was carrying her back to the fold-out chair, where he sat with Katniss perched in his lap, her legs hanging over the side.

“Eat,” Katniss said, dipping the spoon into the bowl and taking the first bite. He pulled the bowl closer and sniffed it, a thoughtful look crossing his face. 

“Spoon,” she showed him the shiny utensil, then filled it with warm, cinnamon and maple flavored oats, feeding him the bite. 

“Eat. Spoon.” Katniss laughed at Peeta’s request for more, and after a few bites he took the bowl and spoon in his hands, struggling at first with exactly how to use them. Being a quick learner, though, he began to scoop up the oats, bringing the food to Katniss's lips. She felt silly at first, a grown man feeding a grown woman, but he had proven already how much he wanted to take care of her, so she let him. 

After the oats had been consumed by them both, Katniss reached for the coffee. It wasn't hot, just as Haymitch had warned, but it was still caffeine. She noticed Peeta watching curiously as she poured, and she took the first drink, offering the cup to him after. He smelled it and wrinkled his nose.

“Try it,” Katniss coaxed sweetly. “Coffee.” Peeta tipped the cup to his lips and made a slurping noise as he sucked some of the coffee into his mouth. His face twisted into a grimace and he handed her back the cup with a single word. “No.” Katniss struggled, and failed, to hide a bark of laughter at the face he made. Peeta looked at her curiously, and when her laughter subsided he picked the cup back up and tasted the coffee again, making another pained face. This time it was more like someone who'd received an electric shock, and Katniss almost fell out of his lap her body was so wracked with amusement. She hadn’t laughed so hard in a long time. 

They sat in the chair for a while, Katniss going over various words and phrases she felt Peeta should know. Things such as chair, tent, boy, girl, fire. Hello, how are you? She then went on to show him various emotions with her facial expressions, giving a short explanation of each one using subjects, verbs and pronouns when they called for it. 

“I am happy,” Katniss said with a big smile, drawing an imaginary circle around her face. “Now, I am sad.” She made a face to show each emotion she pretended to feel, though she didn’t have a clue if she was getting them right since all she genuinely felt was the first one she’d shown him. That one had been an easy sell. 

Peeta watched her diligently, soaking up all he could. When Katniss’s belly rumbled, she realized they been sitting in the same place for hours already. Peeta was so easy to be with that time just seemed to fly by. 

“Happy,” said Peeta with a slight smile thirty minutes later. They were sprawled out on the hard surface of tent floor after having consumed six bananas, two sleeves of saltine crackers and an entire jar of peanut butter. Peeta really liked the nutty spread and Katniss let him have as much as he wanted, enjoying the fact that she could please him with such simple gestures. 

Katniss laid on her back, looking over at Peeta. He was on his back as well, eyes closed and one hand on his bare stomach, the other behind his head. He looked so peaceful, and Katniss took advantage of the stillness to study his features. Eyebrows that arced more perfectly than if he had penciled them on himself, golden eyelashes that feathered out like tiny fingers, catching the light. His profile was magnificent - from the smooth plane of his forehead to the slope of his nose that peaked at the tip, then plunged into pouty lips which parted slightly as he breathed. His dimpled chin and angular jaw were covered with day old stubble. He had been handsome when she first met him, but the time she’d spent with him only served to amplify his attractiveness. Katniss wanted to trace every line, every dip, every inch of skin with her fingertips. 

Instead, Katniss situated herself in his side, resting her head on his chest, tentatively placing a hand on his heart. Peeta’s arm draped around her back. He tugged her closer and they lay there, silent, Katniss listening to the rhythmic thumping of Peeta’s heart in his chest, her new favorite song, Peeta’s hand drifting up and down her bare arm, lulling her to sleep. 

Katniss woke to a groan, Peeta’s body tense beneath hers, his arm pressing her torso into his. Her head shot up to look at his face, contorted in agony.  _ He has nightmares, too. _ Katniss knew Peeta was strong, but his grip on her was more powerful than she could stand. 

“Pee-ta,” she choked out, coughing the last syllable of his name. He only squeezed tighter and Katniss thought this must be what it felt like to be the prey of a python. “Peeta,” she said louder, patting his chest. He startled out of the dream, seizing her wrist and flipping her onto her back instantly, pinning her to the ground with his body, his eyes round and full of surprise. She read his lips as he mouthed her name, then released her as he started to back away. 

Katniss grabbed his arms and he paused. “Stay,” she said, sliding her hands up and down his skin in a calming manner. She watched a small shiver run through his body and his eyes turn a deeper shade of the glorious blue. Peeta lowered himself back down, so that he was resting fully on top of her, his gaze uncertain as it traveled back and forth from her eyes to her lips. He was heavy and Katniss couldn’t move or breathe again, so she pushed her palms against his chest until he took some weight off, realizing he was crushing her. 

“That’s better,” Katniss said softly before pulling his lips to hers. She’d been waiting for this moment since she’d left the cave. After prompting him with a swipe of her tongue across his lower lip, Peeta wasted no time reacquainting his mouth with hers. It was sloppy with desperation until Katniss took control, caressing his tongue in the way she liked. He grunted his approval and Katniss smiled through the kiss as he became more confident, each stroke of his tongue and brush of his lips bolder than the last. 

She palmed his muscular chest, forgetting how he parroted her every action and she groaned loudly when she felt his large hand squeeze one of her breasts through her thin shirt. His tongue plundered her mouth in time with the movements of his hand and Katniss was quickly becoming lost to his newfound skills. Her underwear were rapidly dampening, and it had nothing to do with the humidity. Then, he pulled away suddenly and her body protested. 

His lips looked like hers felt, plump, pink and tingling from insistent kisses. “Katniss show... Peeta,” he said through heavy breathing. She stared at him, brain so foggy with lust she almost missed the new word he used. Then he kissed her again, softer this time, and she forgot about everything else. 

She nodded slowly. “Yes. Katniss show Peeta.” Peeta tugged on her shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing it behind him. She hadn’t worn a bra since the day she stepped foot on the island, the heat and humidity of the day was too stifling for the extra layer. She watched him take her in, doubt settling in her mind. The dimness of the cave had made her less inhibited than she felt now, in the middle of the afternoon. She moved to cover her breasts with her arms but Peeta stopped her. 

“No,” he said, moving her limbs to the side. His expression was starved and his hands reached out for her. Her skin burned every place his eyes touched and his gaze was so intense that she had to look away, When she felt the rough skin of his hands on her, her eyes closed and immediately she arched up to him, dropping her head back in relief. She bit her lip and moaned as his flat palms circled over her small breasts. But as good as it felt at first, she wanted something more.

“Watch,” she instructed him, pointing to her eyes. She removed his hands and using her fingers to pinch her nipples, she pulled them into tight peaks. Impatiently, Peeta moved her hands out of the way and pinched her, a little too hard and Katniss hissed, her eyes squeezed shut. It wasn't unpleasant, but Peeta seemed to understand to be more gentle, rubbing his thumb over the bud to soothe away the pain. Katniss’s eyes flew open at the delicate touch, her pupils so fat with desire she could probably see 100 yards off in the middle of the night.

Peeta’s hand left her breast, skimming over her flat belly. Katniss’s breathing shallowed, hitching when his fingers reached the waistband of her pants. He fumbled with the snap closure, becoming annoyed and finally pulling hard enough to rip the tiny metal circle from the seam. Neither one of them cared. 

Once Katniss was freed of them, Peeta’s hand rubbed over the fabric of her underwear, grabbing the edge of them between his fingers. She thought he was going to rip them off her, but instead he just looked at her inquisitively. She realized he wanted the word. 

“P-panties,” she managed to tell him through her lust-addled brain. 

“Panties,” he repeated, and Katniss thought about how he made every new word he learned sound exciting. He could probably make her wet just by singing the alphabet song his voice was so hypnotic. 

Katniss’s greedy eyes raked over him, dropping to the bulge in his pants. Encouraged by the sight, she let go of any self-consciousness she’d held onto. Watching him pull the fabric away from her hips, she swallowed heavily as they skimmed over her knees and down her calves. Peeta wasted no time before eagerly reaching for her hand and dragging their twined limbs to hover just above her dark curls. His eyes implored her to show him how to please her. He was eager to learn how to make her fly and Katniss was willing to teach him. She wanted to give into her fantasies and feel her body burn under his hands. 

She let his hand fall, nudging it south to see what he would do. He looked at her, then down to where his hand rested. He flexed his fingers, combing through the downy hairs that covered her. It was driving her wild that his hand stayed there, fingers bending and curling until she couldn't stand it anymore. She raised her hips, trying to communicate her need.

“Peeta, touch,” Katniss instructed breathlessly.

“Touch,” he whispered reverently, and she finally moved his fingers between her folds. The initial sensation caused her eyes to close in pleasure. She knew she was dripping with arousal, but the feel of him finally touching her the way she wanted him to surpassed any dreams she’d had about it or the times she’d done it for herself. 

Peeta nudged her knees apart. His sight was fixed on the apex of her thighs, and Katniss sucked in a sharp breath as he passionately, curiously followed her guiding fingers in an exploration of her most intimate place. When she finally felt Peeta needed no more instruction, she let him take the reins. 

The way he touched her was basic and fundamental, but  _ oh _ , so good and exactly what Katniss longed for. When she couldn’t take it any longer, she repositioned his wandering fingers at her aching nub, dragging his wet finger over it a few times, whispering ‘touch’ until he understood what she wanted. When she was confident he did, she laid her head back onto the hard floor, concentrating on his movements. He fumbled a bit at first, his pacing irregular and at times wandering slightly from the place that would make her toes curl. After a little more direction, he finally set a rhythm that made her body begin to sing. She pinched her nipples for added sensation and surprised herself by making sounds she’d never made during her ex’s half-hearted attempts to please her. 

A string of yes’s flew from her mouth within minutes as her belly began tightening, climbing rapidly and diving off just as quickly. She cried out as her walls contracted, barely coherent enough to redirect Peeta’s hand back to her entrance, pushing a thick finger inside her. She wanted him to feel what he was doing to her. He grunted through her moans, and when Katniss was finally sated and still, he laid down beside her. She’d never felt so good in her life.

When her eyes finally opened, she didn’t know whether to be horrified or humored at the sight of him smelling his glistening digit. When his tongue darted out to taste her, Katniss decided she was neither, and she remembered the bulge in his pants. Wanting to share this pleasure with him, and slightly annoyed that he was partially clothed while  _ she  _ was naked, Katniss reached hesitantly for the button of his shorts. Peeta froze, his eyebrows arched high. She didn’t know how to explain it to him other than the same way he’d asked her. She smiled shyly at him. 

“Peeta show Katniss?” Even though she knew the basics, she’d never felt proficient at using her hand to pleasure a man. She had her ex to blame for that. He had obviously been too preoccupied with someone who already knew how to use the equipment. But she figured posing this question to Peeta would let him know what she wanted to do, as well as give her a lesson in how he liked it. 

“Okay,” Peeta agreed, quickly moving to unfasten the button of his shorts, stripping them off in one swift motion. This was the first time Katniss had really looked at him. He was definitely impressive. Much bigger than her ex for sure. She wasn’t sure what, if anything, Peeta knew about intercourse, and resolved to keeping things to touching today. 

She was jolted back into the moment by the sensation of his hand wrapping hers around his erection. He grunted when she began to pump his shaft the way she remembered him doing in the cave.The skin was velvety soft beneath her palm, and soon his hand closed around hers again, gripping tighter and moving faster. He groaned and rolled on top of her, hands bracing himself on either side of her head. Her fingers tight around him, Katniss watched as he began to pump into her hand as if he were between her legs, lost in the erotic motion of his hips.

Just like he had in the cave, he grunted and threw his head back. Katniss could tell he was close. His movements becoming erratic with quick, shallow pulses. She moaned with him as he came, finding satisfaction in the way his handsome features contorted in ecstasy - eyes squeezed shut, mouth slack in the shape of a capital ‘O’. His hair swayed around his shoulders with his slowing thrusts. 

When he was finished, Katniss looked down at his semen spread over her abdomen and sprinkled between her breasts. She reached for the closest scrap of fabric she could find, but before she could wipe it off Peeta’s hands were massaging it into her skin as if it were lotion. She froze, wide eyes glued to his careful ministrations. His hands felt amazing but she couldn’t figure out what he was doing. Katniss had wanted to wipe it off, dry the dampened skin, but Peeta seemed to want it on her. 

“Katniss, Peeta. Always,” he said, watching her intently. And Katniss understood that Peeta was claiming her as his. 

* * *

 

After a dinner in which Katniss was eerily silent and mentally removed from her companions, she laid in her cot, having excused herself on pretense of a headache. It wasn’t too far off, though. She’d been lost in thought since Peeta left her tent, and the overload of what exactly was happening was causing her brain to hurt. 

When Peeta had rubbed his semen into her and said ‘always’, the happy cloud around their secret relationship had begun to dissipate. Soon, Katniss would have to leave the island. Soon, men would come with their big tractors and bulldozers and tear half the jungle down. Soon, Peeta’s home would be overrun with vacationers who wouldn’t understand him and maybe even be afraid of him. What if they hurt him? Was it now her responsibility to take care of him? Would he even leave his home and go back with her to live in the modern world? 

The worries about what would happen to Peeta back in ‘civilization’ mounted until her brain couldn’t handle anymore. She needed help. It was time to bring someone else in on her secret. It was time to tell her Uncle. First thing in the morning, Katniss decided, she would pull him aside and reveal Peeta’s existence. 

As if the her thoughts alone had conjured him, the zipper to her tent gave way and Peeta stepped through the opening. It was dark but she knew his form already, and the shadow of his long hair was softly cast against the fabric wall. He was at her side before she could fully sit up. 

“Peeta stay?” The way he asked was so unassuming that all Katniss could do was say yes. All she  _ wanted _ to do was say yes. She moved over and threw the single cover back to reveal the open space. He laid down facing her and her hands found their way into his long locks, combing through them, every stroke a promise to help him, to keep him safe. Her hands created a silent lullaby that eased him into peaceful sleep beside her. 

Tears silently slipped down Katniss's cheeks as her heart broke for Peeta. He had no idea what was coming. And she didn't know how to tell him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Don’t forget to holla back! Pbg


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my patient and very competent betas, burkygirl and xerxia31. This story wouldn’t be what it is without the two of you, without Mega’s ask, and also loving-mellark, who added the cherry on top with the gorgeous banner. And thank you to everyone who continually sends me excited asks and encouraging words! I’m working on chapter 7 now. It won’t take as long as this one did. I’m hoping for 2-3 more updates to be able to call this one complete! I hope the wait for this chapter is worth it! I’m terribly nervous…

 

 

Instead of waking to the usual screech of monkeys, Katniss woke to the feel of lips, soft and warm against her forehead, then the tip of her nose, before they came to rest at her own lips. She smiled against them, and when she opened her eyes she could almost make out the blue of Peeta's in the pale, dawning light that seeped through the jungle canopy and into the tent.

 

“Hello, Katniss,” Peeta said to her in almost perfect English. She smiled even wider at his greeting.

 

“It's _good morning, Katniss_ ,” she corrected him sweetly, letting her fingers caress the strong line of his jaw as he tried again.

 

“Good mor-ning, Katniss,” he said. Since he'd learned to say her name all it had ever seemed to do was liquify her insides, and this time was no different. Except for the morning erection pressing into her thigh.

 

“Good morning, Peeta,” she returned sleepily, stretching next to him. Her leg moved downward, grazing his cock, and her arms slid above her head, then came to rest around his shoulders as she nuzzled into his neck, placing a kiss there.

 

Peeta wasted no time pressing his hips into hers, and she moaned when he did it a second, and then a third time, before beginning to suckle at the skin behind his ear. She hooked a leg over his, and he grunted, a sound Katniss had come to know and love. She even knew the tone of them. This one was approving.

 

His hand grabbed onto her thigh and began to wander - up and down, squeezing, sliding - from knee to hip. Her skin pebbled despite the humid climate, and she noticed Peeta repeat certain motions when little mewls and sighs escaped her.

 

Katniss placed her fingers on his jaw, turning his face to hers. Their lips were a hair’s breadth away, but she didn’t do what she wanted to do. She waited to see what he would do. Just a moment’s hesitation flashed by before Peeta traced the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue. She opened her mouth immediately in welcome as he rolled her underneath him in one quick motion, the thin blanket that covered them falling away.

 

Katniss’s fingers traced the ridges of Peeta’s strong arms and chest while his lips skated across her cheek and neck. He inched down her body and she sucked in a breath when his teeth scraped lightly against her skin as he grabbed the strap of her tank and peeled it down her arm. When he finished working the other side down, her breasts were bared for him. His gaze traveled from her chest to her lips to her eyes, pinning her with his stare.

 

He smiled at her like she was the sun, finally rising after being too long in the darkness. It was innocent and pure, and in complete contrast to watching the sinful scene of his tongue flicking out to test a hardened nipple. His eyes never left hers, and she could see he wanted her approval. Had he done it right? Was she pleased?

 

In response, Katniss brought his head back down to her breast, biting her lip to keep from keening loud enough to alert the others. His inexperienced mouth was good enough to send shocks of pleasure through every limb, and when his tongue stumbled across her skin, biting down lightly on her other nipple, she bucked her hips into his.

 

Peeta’s kisses grew slow and measured, more unsure as his lips traversed her skin. His body trembled above hers, and she realized they’d been in that same position for a while. His muscles must be tiring.

 

“Peeta?” she murmured, bringing his face to hers for a slow kiss. A questioning grunt answered her.

 

But before she could ask him to lay down, his head snapped up. Katniss could tell he was listening for something. She froze, wondering if Haymitch was making his way to her tent and might burst through the flap any minute. And then she heard it - the shriek of monkeys.

 

“Peeta, show,” he said, rising off of her. He reached for the shorts she’d ‘borrowed’ from Finnick, and once they were on, he stretched his hand out to her. Katniss adjusted her straps, pulling her tank back up to cover her breasts.

 

“Peeta?” she questioned quietly as she took his hand. Where was he wanting to take her? She couldn’t leave now. She would be safe with Peeta, that she knew. But there was no way she wouldn’t be missed by the others.

 

“Peeta, show, Katniss.” He started to move to the exit, pulling her with him, but she stopped him.

 

“Peeta, no,” she whispered urgently, hoping he understood. Katniss unzipped the tent and pointed across the way to the other tents. “Awake,” she said. Peeta looked at her confused.

 

“Sleep,” she said, folding her hands under her cheek and closing her eyes, then opening them and repeating the word, “Awake.”

 

Peeta’s chest rose and fell in defeat. He seemed to understand, but Katniss could tell he knew that whatever it was he wanted would have to wait. A rustling came from one of the other tents and her head snapped in the direction of the sound. She was seconds away from telling Peeta to go before they were caught, when his arm came around her waist and he pulled her to him. He kissed her soundly, pressing his lips into hers with such promise Katniss wanted to parade him in front of the others right then if it meant he could stay. He touched his forehead to hers, his nose brushing against hers tenderly. “Always,” he breathed before disappearing from camp without a sound.

 

* * *

 

 

“Uncle Haymitch?” Katniss asked from outside his tent. “Are you feeling better?”

 

It had been seventy-two hours since Katniss had decided to tell her uncle about Peeta, but since then, Haymitch had been severely sick, vomiting every hour it seemed. Katniss was worried he’d contracted some island disease, but after the first day he’d stopped heaving his guts out at least. Then she’d had to play nurse to make sure he wasn’t dehydrated. It wasn’t the best time to have a conversation about her secret, so she’d tucked it away for a day when he was feeling better. Maybe that day was today.

 

Peeta had come to her tent each night without fail. He hadn’t asked anymore if he could stay. As soon as Katniss heard the zipper go down she lifted the cover in answer, waiting for him to crawl in beside her. Both nights he’d kissed her nose, then a gentle brush of his lips against hers before fitting himself to her for sleep. There were no heated kisses, no wandering hands. It was a bit confusing, especially since he laid next to her with only the thin barrier of her underwear and tank top between their skin. She could feel his erection in the mornings, had even wiggled against him to see if she could get a reaction, but he’d just swept her hair aside, kissed her neck, then her lips and climbed out of the cot, not to be seen again until dark.

 

Haymitch croaked an answer, bringing her back from her wandering thoughts. “A little better. Could you bring me some water?”

 

“Already got it,” she said, unzipping the tent flap and taking a canteen of freshly boiled and cooled water to his bedside. He was strong enough to sit up today. It was a good sign, although it made her nervous, but she knew she had to tell someone about Peeta. It was time, and she trusted her uncle to do the right thing.

 

Haymitch chugged the water, and Katniss pulled up a small stool to sit near the cot. “Hey, can I, um, talk to you about something important?” she asked. He pulled the canteen away and looked at her appraisingly.

 

“What’s wrong?” he questioned immediately. “Did Finnick or Marvel do something less than appropriate?”

 

“What?” Katniss looked at him like he had two heads. “No, not - nothing like that.” Her chest heaved when she took a deep breath, preparing for the bomb she was about to drop on him. She expected him to react poorly. As he should. She had kept serious information from him. If she were in his shoes, she would be livid. “I, uh, found someone.”

 

Haymitch scoffed. “Really? No offense, Sweetheart, but neither of those boys are for you. Finnick has a secret girl back home and the other one’s not really your type. I guess it is a step up from the last one, though, in that Marvel actually likes _your_ type - female,” he chuckled. Uncle Haymitch was in fine form. Fully recovered, it seemed, and normally she would give it right back to him. But her information was too pressing to be distracted from, so she ignored his jab and pressed on.

 

“No, not them. I found someone else. H-here,” she stuttered quietly, finally letting weeks’ worth of hidden truth out into the open, “on the island.”

 

Haymitch sat up a little straighter, one eyebrow shooting sky high. “Come again?”

 

The dam ruptured and Katniss dove into how she was rescued from drowning in the ocean by a strange man. How he was naked and elated to see her. How he’d been visiting her at the camp, conveniently leaving out the part about the actual time of day he’d visited, and how long he’d stayed. “His name is Peeta.” She hadn’t had the nerve to look Haymitch in the eye while she recounted the last few weeks, and when she finally looked up, it was as though a thousand pounds had been lifted from her shoulders. She hadn’t realized how stressful it had been to keep Peeta a secret, and even though Haymitch wore an angry look on his face, Katniss felt as light as a feather.

 

“You met a person, a _human_ , on this deserted island and didn’t tell us? Katniss, do you know how dangerous that is? What if he’s not stable? What if he has ulterior motives? He could have dragged you off and raped you or killed you, or _sacrificed_ you…” Well, now he was just being ridiculous, she thought. Peeta wouldn’t hurt a fly. Katniss tuned him out, until he threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. She was thankful he slept in shorts. “I’m taking Finn and Marv, and we’re going to find him.”

 

“No! Just wait, will you?” Katniss didn’t care about them tracking Peeta. He would only be found if he wanted to be found, she knew that. “Haymitch, he’s my… friend.” My _special_ friend, she almost said, but that would sound weird and lead into a whole other conversation she was too old to have. Especially with her uncle.

 

Haymitch exited the tent, barking for the other two to come out. Finnick emerged in the middle of pulling a shirt over his head, and Marvel was rubbing the sleep from his eyes, almost missing his chair as he stumbled around the charred remains of last night’s fire.

 

“What is it?” Finnick asked, leaning his back against a tree and folding his arms across his chest casually, covering a yawn with the back of his hand. It was just becoming daylight, and shadows hung in the air, the light slowly chasing them away.

 

“Katniss here has found another human on the island.” At the news, both of them perked as though liquid caffeine had been filtered through their veins.

 

“What?!” Finnick cried, pushing himself off the tree. Marvel stayed sitting, but his eyes widened and he sat ramrod straight.

 

“He was shipwrecked here a long time ago, I think,” Katniss offered, sharing a little bit of his shaggy appearance when she came to on the beach. Her cheeks heated once again when she remembered him naked underneath her, and she hoped the dawning light wouldn’t give away her other secret. She rushed on to explain. “I think maybe he’s been on the island for years maybe. He doesn’t really speak much English, and you can only find him if he wants you to,” she challenged, throwing in that last part for her own satisfaction. That her secret could remain a secret if _he_ wanted it to.

 

“Is he alone?” Marvel asked.

 

“Yes, he’s completely alone,” she answered, remembering how he looked at her the night she left his cave, and how he’d tried to be near her at every opportunity.

 

“I can’t believe you kept this from me,” Haymitch said, now pacing the small area between the tents.

 

“Where is he?” Finnick asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Katniss answered truthfully, shrugging her shoulders. He could be anywhere. In his cave, at the cliff, even high above them in the trees, looking down. Watching them right now. She looked up out of habit and Finnick and Marvel’s gazes followed hers.

 

“He’s… in a tree?” Finnick drawled unbelievably, raising a finger to lazily point upward.

 

“Sometimes.”

 

Finnick scoffed, stepping closer to her. It wasn’t threatening, and she wasn’t scared of him, but his large frame towered over her small one. “Those are very vague answers, Katniss. It’s almost like you’re helping him hide.”

 

“What if I am?” she shot back, jutting her chin up in defiance.

 

“Do you even know who he is?” he barked, clearly becoming agitated, his posture stiff and jaw tight. “What if he’s some lunatic after being stranded here for so long? You could have put us all in danger!”

 

“Not to mention,” Haymitch joined in, “what if someone is looking for him? What if he’s wanted by the FBI and this is his hideout? I’d rather live on a deserted island than spend a lifetime in jail,” he muttered, as if saying that Peeta is a wanted man made it so.

 

“That’s ridiculous!” Katniss cried, clenching her fists at her side and stomping her foot into the dirt. She wasn’t going to budge. “He’s kind and considerate, and-”

 

“Tell us where he is,” Finnick insisted.

 

“I don’t know where he is,” Katniss answered slowly through her teeth, punctuating each word with a warning.

 

“As the owner of this property with a _huge_ investment in its future, I should be made aware of potential threats to my livelihood and our lives, don’t you think?” Finnick poked her in the shoulder and his voice rose as he continued. “I’ve been staying silent and putting up with your strange behavior - always running off, not telling us where you’re going, putting yourself in danger, and now keeping secrets of like this?” He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed, holding her in place. “Tell me where he is!”

 

“Hey-” Haymitch started to call Finnick down, but he was interrupted when Finnick was ripped away from Katniss and tossed onto the jungle floor. Katniss wondered at Marvel’s confrontational actions, until she realized Marvel was still sitting in his chair, eyes and mouth gaping.

 

“No touch Katniss.” Peeta warned, having twisted Finnick’s body into something resembling a pretzel. Finnick release a series of short whines, and when Peeta finally released him he sucked in a deep breath.

 

Finnick stayed down, eyes riveted and hands in silent surrender as he took in the stranger while Katniss looked over at Haymitch, pale and frozen in disbelief, as though he had just witnessed an apparition. No one moved for several moments. The only sounds in the jungle were their ragged breaths.

 

“Hey! Those are my shorts!” Finnick said incredulously, breaking the uncomfortable silence enough that Katniss thought it was okay to approach Peeta without frightening anyone. She touched his arm gently.

 

“Peeta, okay. It’s okay.” She tugged on Peeta’s arm, and he removed his foot from Finnick’s chest, keeping his eyes pinned on him. He reached behind him for Katniss, protecting her with his body when Finnick began to get up from the ground. Katniss tried to move in between Peeta and the others, to protect him from something they might do, but she was no match for his strength, and he pushed her back behind him.

 

“You wanna introduce us to your friend, Katniss?” Haymitch asked. No one dared move toward them yet. “And why don’t you let him know we’re not gonna hurt him, alright?”

 

“Unless he hurts one of us,” Marvel mumbled. Katniss shot him a menacing look.

 

“Everyone, this is Peeta.” She motioned stiffly towards him, but she couldn’t help the smile that tugged up the corners of her lips when he looked at her. She took his hand and pointed at each person, telling Peeta their names. Peeta eyed them warily, sending them each a silent warning. “Let’s all have a seat, shall we?” she suggested, letting go of Peeta’s hand to take her own seat as Peeta stood behind her.

 

“You know, Katniss,” Haymitch started, pausing to think. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, chin resting on steepled hands. “I’m not real comfortable leaving you behind while we go traipsing through the jungle today.”

 

Katniss balked. “And why not? You were perfectly willing to do it when you thought I was alone with just a gun. Why aren’t you more comfortable now that I have someone here with me?”

 

Haymitch considered her sharp words. “Because I don’t know this person. But fine, you can both come with us from now on.” It wasn’t a suggestion and Katniss found it insulting, _again_ ,  that he thought she needed a sitter.

 

“Thank you for the kind thoughts,” she replied, “but I’ll stay with Peeta.” Collectively, Haymitch sighed, Finnick groaned and Marvel rubbed nervous hands up and down his thighs.

 

“She’s got the hots for jungle boy,” Finnick said.

 

“Peeta!” she corrected, then realized she hadn’t denied the accusation. Embarrassment heated her cheeks. She knew it was true, but that didn’t mean anyone else had to know. “And what are you talking about?”

 

“It’s written all over your face, Sweetheart,” Haymitch said, lifting his chin toward Peeta. “And _his,_ which is why I’m worried for you.”

 

“For your information,” she said indignantly, trying to get their minds off the subject of Peeta and her together, “Peeta rescued me, and now I intend to rescue him. If he wants to be rescued,” she added as an afterthought. Her mind raced at the thought of having to leave him behind, but she’d have to cross that bridge when it came. “I want to help him, Haymitch. However I can.”

 

Haymitch nodded. “It’s pretty obvious we’ll have to do something about him. He’ll have to go back with us, or we need to call the authorities. Someone has to know who he is or be looking for him.”

 

Katniss tipped her head back to look at Peeta, still standing behind her chair. The way he looked at her melted her heart, and she made a rash decision she hoped he wouldn’t be upset about. “He lives in a… a cave.” The men looked at her curiously. She rushed ahead so they wouldn’t ask how she knew. She feared the time she spent in the cave, and what they’d done there, would be written all over her face.  “There were some drawings on the walls. They might be able to tell us more about him.”

 

The three men looked at each other thoughtfully. “Alright,” Haymitch said finally, slapping his hands on his knees and standing. Katniss didn’t miss the shakiness from his weakened state. “Let’s go see.”

 

“Wait a minute, Haymitch,” Finnick said. “How far is it?” He directed his question to Katniss. She spread her hands in ignorance.

 

“I’ve only been once. I really can’t say.”

 

Finnick turned his attention back to Haymitch. “You’re not completely recovered from whatever it was that put you down for three days. I think we can wait another two for you to heal, just in case it’s too far. It’s not like any of us are going anywhere yet.” He shrugged matter-of-factly.

 

The word _yet_ pushed its way to the forefront of her mind, dragging with it her inevitable departure from the island. She shook it away, but now that it was there it wouldn’t go far.

 

Katniss could tell Haymitch wanted to argue. It was in his nature, just like it was in hers, but she  was grateful for Finnick’s caution. She needed to find a way to tell Peeta her plan before they bombarded his home.

 

Haymitch eased back down in his chair. “Two days,” he said with finality, holding up two fingers rather weakly. “Katniss will you get breakfast started? And coffee. I need coffee.”

 

* * *

 

 

Peeta helped Katniss with the oatmeal while Finnick made the coffee. Katniss noticed the nervous way everyone’s eyes darted around the camp, always aware of their surroundings and what the others were doing. She had to tell Peeta ‘okay’ several times, casting daring looks at the other three men.

 

Peeta disappeared briefly, returning with two pineapples. Katniss smiled as the others’ faces lit up. “I have been trying to figure out a way to get one of those down,” Finnick said in awe, pulling a knife from his pocket and flipping it open too quickly. It made a sharp, snapping sound and Peeta bristled, grunting when his eyes landing on the weapon.

 

Finnick turned the knife around, and with the blade in his hand he reached out and offered it to Peeta. who looked between the sharp object and the large man several times. “Okay,” Finnick said, using the same calming word he’d noticed Katniss used. Slowly, Peeta reached out to take it.

 

They all watched as the pineapple was expertly cut into long spears, and Peeta laid them out on a large leaf he plucked from a nearby plant.

 

“Don’t eat too fast, Uncle Haymitch,” Katniss warned when she saw him hungrily eyeing the juicy fruit. “You don’t want it coming back up.”

 

“Thanks for the tip, Sweetheart,” he said before picking up a piece of the pineapple and devouring it. Katniss rolled her eyes at him. If he didn’t want to keep the delicious food from making a reappearance, there was nothing she could do about it.

 

“This is amazing,” Marvel gushed, reaching for his third piece of fruit. “I’ve never had pineapple this sweet.”

 

“You should taste the bananas and the coconut,” Katniss said, remembering the feast Peeta had brought to her the night in the cave.

 

“I love bananas.” Collective agreement went around the camp at Marvel’s sentiment.

 

“Ba-na-na?” Peeta asked, the word muffled around the oatmeal he was chewing. His blue eyes followed Katniss’s slender arm as she pointed to a banana tree just on the outside of the camp.

 

Peeta finished off his oatmeal in two large bites, then stood and walked toward the tree. When he was a few yards from it he sped up his steps, launching himself upward when he reached the trunk. He grabbed onto the gnarly shaft and climbed his way up quickly. They all watched in amazement. Katniss had yet to see him scale a tree, and it was quickly becoming her favorite entertainment. His blond hair swung across his back like a curtain, offering glimpses of the way the muscles in his back rippled each time he reached and pulled his weight upward. She didn’t miss the way his forearms and biceps bulged in cooperation, and in seemingly no time at all, he landed on the ground, a bunch of perfectly ripened bananas under his arm. Marvel let out a whistle.

 

“Impressive,” Haymitch added. Peeta bounded back over to Katniss, offering her the first choice, then passed the rest of it around the group.

 

“I can do that,” Finnick boasted, puffing his chest out. By the arrogant smirk he was wearing, Katniss could tell he was clearly teasing, and she was desperate to change the mood of the camp to something more light-hearted.

 

“Then why haven’t you?” she challenged, waving her arm toward the tree in invitation. Finnick narrowed his eyes at her, tipping his head thoughtfully. He pushed himself out of the chair and strolled over to the same tree Peeta had just scaled so effortlessly. He circled it a few times, looking over its rough bark. “What are you waiting for?” Katniss teased him from her seat. She glanced over at Peeta, who was watching intently as Finnick reached, high, grabbing ahold of a knot in the tree and hoisting himself up. His legs and arms wrapped around it, and he fought his way up the tree about twelve inches before he lost his grip and fell, thankfully not far, to the ground with a thud.

 

Haymitch and Marvel howled with laughter, and Katniss snorted. She looked over at Peeta, enjoying the fact that he had a grin on his face and his eyes were twinkling with mirth.

 

“How does he do that?” Finnick muttered aloud after picking himself up. Katniss was pleasantly surprised when Peeta left her side to join Finnick at the base of the tree, and began to try to show him what to do. After a quick lesson, Finnick made it a little farther than the first time, but still not even halfway up.

 

Marvel, Haymitch and Katniss looked on, cheering Finnick as he tried again and again, finally giving up from exhaustion. “The guy is unreal,” he admitted, plopping down into his chair. He put away three bananas, and then excused himself to his tent for a nap.

 

To Katniss’s dismay, Peeta lifted her out of her chair and sat down, perching her on his lap as though they it were normal behavior. Which it was, just not in front of other people. Katniss glanced at her uncle, who wore a suspicious look, then to Marvel, whose eyes flitted away uncomfortably.

 

“Katniss, can I talk to you for a minute?” Haymitch asked her, not waiting for a reply before

walking to his own tent. She told Peeta to wait there and reluctantly followed Haymitch.

 

When she stepped through the canvas, Haymitch was sitting on the edge of his cot. “What are you doing?”

 

“What do you mean?” she knew what he meant, but she wasn’t going to answer that vague of a question with the truth. It was none of his business, really.

 

“What are you doing _with Peeta_?”

 

“I’m helping him. What does it look like I’m doing?” She could have cursed herself for letting that question slip out. She knew by the look on his face what he was thinking.

 

“To be very frank, it looks like you two have formed an intimate attachment. The boy looks at you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread, protects you like you belong to him. And you look at him like… well, like he’s your savior.”

 

“He kind of is!” she hissed. “If it weren’t for Peeta I wouldn’t be here. And you wouldn’t even know what happened because I’d be fish food. So yes, we are kind of attached to each other, Haymitch. He hasn’t interacted with another human being in God knows how long, and you care about a little bodily proximity? Give me a break.”

 

“Alright, alright,” he said, shaking his head. “Just… listen, I know I’m not your dad, and you’re not a child, but I just want you to be _careful_.” Katniss rolled her eyes at the stress he put on the last word.

 

“I’m not having sex with him,” she spat, her cheeks flaming at having to explain herself.

 

“Okay, okay. Settle down. I just don’t know how this is all going to work out. We have no clue who he is or who may be looking for him. I just don’t want you to get yourself in a mess. We all have to be careful.”

 

Katniss knew that was about as much of an ‘I care about you’ that her uncle had ever expressed, to _anyone_ , and she exhaled a deep breath. “I understand. Thank you, Haymitch,” she said. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

 

* * *

 

 

The sun had already set, giving way to the sounds of night. Katniss waited to bring Peeta to her tent after everyone else had retired to their own, not wanting to arouse further suspicion of what their intimacy might mean. They would think what they wanted, she knew, but she didn’t care for prying eyes and ears.

 

Usually she was already in bed before Peeta came to her, but tonight she had just started to change her clothes when Peeta shed his only covering and laid down on her cot. She stopped what she was doing, staring at his naked form in what little light was left, even though she’d seen him before. It felt different somehow, now that Peeta was no longer a secret. It felt… _freeing_. And with his eyes on her, Katniss began to undress, piece by piece, until nothing was left.

 

Peeta shuddered when she crawled in next to him, his hand brushing down her bare arm. It had been a few days since they’d had any physical contact, and Katniss found herself craving more than a quick kiss on her neck and a warm body beside her. “Kiss Katniss?” she asked him. She didn’t need to see his eyes darken with desire. Their bodies were pressed so closely together on the small cot she could feel it for herself. Her hand went to his hip when his lips found hers in the darkness, turning from gentle to insistent when she moved to knead the taut flesh of his ass. He copied her, squeezing and rubbing, his hardness pressing into her center deliciously.

 

When she reached down to take him in her hand, he grunted, pulling back from their kiss. He reached down to take her hand, removing it from his cock. “Sleep,” he said, a hint of grievance in the word. He laid his head down and pulled her into his body snugly.

 

Katniss didn't know what to make of his actions, other than they felt like a punch to the gut. All the air had been sucked out of her lungs and she was grateful for the cover of darkness to hide the mortification on her face. Peeta had never even been with a woman before, and he was pushing her away. After he’d been so curious with her at first, and seemed to enjoy it as much as she did, what was she supposed to make of his rejection?

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Katniss?” Peeta gently nudged her cheek with his nose, turning her head so that he could flutter morning kisses across her jaw and down neck.

 

She murmured “five more minutes,” and tucked herself into Peeta’s chest. Sleep had come much later for her than it had for Peeta. He had been snoring within minutes of closing his eyes, while Katniss laid awake wondering what she’d done to make him push her away.

 

“Katniss,” he said again, combing his fingers through her hair. “Awake?” Katniss couldn’t help the grin that spread across her lips at the new word, blinking one eye open to stare at him. She was amazed at how much he retained. He was like a sponge. A very attractive sponge.

 

“Peeta show Katniss?” Everything he asked for was so unassuming and earnest that she had the hardest time denying him anything, and as much as she wanted to continue lounging in the cot next to him, she remembered the eagerness with which he’d asked to show her something days before.

 

“Alright. Peeta show Katniss,” she answered groggily, stretching before climbing out of the bed. Peeta hopped out as though he’d been awake for hours already, and had dressed before she could find clean underwear.

 

Katniss could hear the monkeys’ morning alarm as Peeta guided her through the jungle, the soft crunch of green leaves on fresh earth under their steps. The mornings were a little cooler, but the humidity was still thick, dampening her skin and clothes, and causing her braid to grow two sizes larger than normal.

 

Peeta pulled her by the hand, in a hurry to get to whatever it was he wanted to show her. As the monkeys grew louder, Katniss grew more tense. She slowed, but Peeta didn’t, and she stumbled a little before he looked back at her with questioning eyes. “Katniss, okay?”

 

“Monkeys?” she asked him, dropping his hand, and she knew he could hear the fear in her voice. After her last experience, she didn’t care if she never again laid eyes on any species of monkey, no matter how little or cute, for the rest of her life. What were they doing so close to ones that could kill them both without blinking?

 

Peeta reached for her hand again, calming her fears the only way he knew how. “Okay.” But this time he didn’t pull on her. Instead, he waited patiently for her to decide whether or not she wanted to go on. Katniss looked around at the old, tall trees huddled so close together, all of them vying for a sliver of sunlight.

 

When she nodded her head, Peeta pressed his fingers to his lips, then pointed at her feet as a signal for quiet. She followed him closely, crouching down behind him about a hundred yards later. She could hear the monkeys clearly, as though they were right on top of her, and she shivered remembering their teeth and the gash in Peeta’s stomach. _This is insane_ , she thought.

 

“Katniss. Show.” She knew Peeta meant ‘look’, but she wasn’t in a mood to correct his grammar, and he’d said it so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. He crouched behind a bush, pulling Katniss down with him, and carefully pushed aside a thick branch. Her gaze followed the direction of his finger through their cover of foliage. It took a moment for her eyes to find them, but when they did her eyes widened and her brows felt as though they’d retreated above her hairline. Two of the monkeys were… _mating._ The sounds of their grunts echoed off the trunks of the trees and the jungle canopy.

 

Katniss glanced at Peeta, her eyes still round as saucers, wondering what he was thinking. She was surprised that instead of watching the raw display of animalistic behavior, he was staring at her intently, so many questions in his expression that Katniss didn’t know where to start. But she was fairly certain she knew what they were.

 

He didn’t say anything at all. Just looked at her, a curious longing in his eyes. It should have made her uncomfortable, but one thing she had come to know about Peeta was that nothing with him was normal. In the societal view, anyway.

 

Katniss turned her gaze back to the scene, thoughts of Peeta alone on the island for so long on her mind. Never having a mate or someone of his own kind to watch sunsets with, to laugh with, explore with. No one to take care of, or to take care of him. No one to love or or to love him in return. She couldn’t say whether she had ever really been loved by her ex, but at least she’d _had_ someone to share life with, even if it was shorter than they’d vowed it to be. But Peeta had no one.

 

Katniss could feel without looking that his eyes were still on her, and she realized he hadn’t had anyone... _until now_.

 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so he’s been introduced to the rest of the group. What did you think of how it was handled? I wanted them to be upset with her, but also accepting of Peeta after the initial shock was over. What do you make of Peeta pushing Katniss away? And the monkey scene? Since Peeta can’t use words, and I’m not going to have either of them just assume the other wants full-on intimacy, I used it as a way for him to ask her for more. Maybe it’s a little less carnal than him just ‘taking’ her, especially with him growing up alone and without common influence, but I wanted to show throughout the fic that Katniss is his treasure - his ‘pearl of great price’, and that he wants to cherish it rather than dominate it, you know? Another question - if you’ve seen the newest Tarzan, what did you think? Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter and that you’re looking forward to the next one! Talk to me! Pbg.


	7. Chapter 7

 

The way back to camp was silent, save for soft footsteps and the thump of Katniss’s blood in her veins. She was certain Peeta could feel her pulse through the hand he was holding. She was stunned, frankly, that he’d used the monkeys as a way to show her that he wanted _all_ of her. The problem wasn’t that she didn’t want him the same way. She’d fantasized about much more than they had already done; had meditated on the sound of her name under his breath and the grunts that would punctuate each snap of his hips. Would he take her from behind, like he’d seen, or would she be face to face with him, witnessing the wild abandon in his eyes?

 

The problem was she felt as though she couldn’t give him that part of herself without giving away her heart as well, and that scared her. From the moment he’d revealed himself to her, Katniss knew there was something special about Peeta. He wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met, and she knew it was because he was unspoiled. Untainted by the world’s societal system, yet still able to care so deeply.

 

Katniss could tell it in the gentle way he’d bathed her and washed her hair, carried her when her ankle was hurt. The hospitable way he’d invited her into his life and his home, sharing what little he had with her. He protected her when she was in danger, helped her when she needed it most. It surprised Katniss how much she was willing to allow him to do for her. She’d always been able to take care of herself, even when she was married.

 

A splash of water brought Katniss back to the present, and she recognized the stream near the campsite. She had been so caught up in her own head she hadn’t realized they were close to camp. Peeta waded into the stream ankle deep before he turned to gather her into his arms. The words ‘put me down’ never entered her mind. Instead, her arms wound instinctively around his neck and she laid her head on his shoulder and let him carry her across.

 

On the opposite side of the stream, Peeta placed her back on land, and when they moved away from the trickling water Katniss could hear the shuffling of the breakfast dishes and knew someone was awake. Haymitch’s head popped up when he saw them come from the backside of her tent.

 

“Well, well. Out for a morning stroll?” he said, raising his eyes as though he knew something particular. Which he certainly did _not._

 

“Yes, we took a walk,” Katniss said sharply, narrowing her eyes at him.

 

“Excuse me for asking,” he replied with an exaggerated eye roll, then went back to work on the coffee.

 

“Here, let me do that,” Katniss said, stepping in between Haymitch and the boiling water. She needed something to do besides think.

 

“Suit yourself,” he replied, and she knew he was saying thank you. Haymitch eased himself down in his chair, and she could feel him staring a curious hole into the back of her head.

 

“What?” she questioned through her teeth, turning to glare at him.

 

“Oh, nothing,” Haymitch answered. “You really did find someone, didn’t you, Sweetheart?” He chuckled and rubbed his stubbled chin. Katniss mixed the hot water with the coffee grounds, then turned her attention to Peeta. He was still standing across the firepit from her, watching every move she made. She frequently found herself doing the same when he was near, her eyes always tending in his direction. Even now, it was hard to look away from his muscled torso and arms, the long hair she knew flowed past his shoulders, and the affirming way his wonderfully blue eyes sought her out.

 

“We protect each other, Haymitch,” she said as her eyes cut back to her uncle, pleading with him to understand.

 

“I can see that, Katniss,” he said in all seriousness. “But what about when he wants something more from you? Have you thought about that? He’s a man, Katniss. Open your eyes. Men have urges and wild ones like him don’t know how to control them.”

 

What Haymitch was insinuating made her angry, and she pursed her lips together tightly to keep from biting his head off. He had no idea what kind of man Peeta really was. But she knew. She knew that despite his ‘wild’ upbringing, he hadn’t forced himself on her once. They even had a communication barrier and still he’d managed to ask her for more instead of assuming he could just have her. How was it possible that he would wait for her consent without even knowing the meaning of the word? No, there would never be another man like Peeta, of that Katniss was convinced.

 

“He won’t hurt me, Haymitch. He won’t even touch me unless I ask.” Haymitch’s eyebrows rose at her statement, but he dropped the inquisition, for which Katniss was grateful. She sat in the still of the morning, glancing between her coffee and Peeta, wondering exactly how she was going to communicate her decision to him.

 

* * *

 

 That night, Katniss and Peeta laid in her cot, fit snugly together for sleep like they had been every night so far. There was a tension in the humid air surrounding them. Neither of them moved, save for the rise and fall of their chests. _Did Peeta feel it, too?_ she wondered. Thoughts were running rampant through her mind about what she should do now that they were alone. Was he expecting them to mate? Was he waiting for her to show him what to do?

 

When she recognized the cadence of his even breaths on her neck, she knew he was asleep. Part of her was relieved of not having to make the choice so quickly, while a whole other part of her was disappointed.

 

* * *

 

The drizzling rain pitter-pattered from leaf to leaf as the group followed Peeta to the cave. Katniss was close behind him, while Haymitch and Finnick conversed quietly and Marvel brought up the rear.

 

“They’ll be here soon. Really any day now,” Finnick said of the new crew that would be landing on the beach, bringing more tools and equipment for clearing paths and mapping the small piece of land.

 

“Can’t say I’m disappointed. I’ll be glad to get home to my own bed. And a toilet,” Haymitch grumbled, sounding tired from the journey, though it hadn’t been that long since they left camp. Katniss couldn’t say she minded not having those things. She might have agreed with her uncle’s sentiment had she not discovered Peeta.

 

“Can... we,” Haymitch's breaths came shorter with each word, “stop for… a minute?”

 

Katniss tapped on Peeta’s shoulder and he turned. “Wait?” she asked him. His blue eyes seemed impossibly brighter against the gray weather, and his hair was damp, sticking to the edges of his face. Beads of water dripped lazily down his chest, as though they were loathe to give up their place on his body. Katniss couldn’t blame them. After laying next to him all night, her hands were itching to touch him freely, to brush the wet strands back from his face and clear a path through the clear droplets on his skin with her fingertips.

 

 _Later,_ she told herself. There were more important things to do - like find out who Peeta was and decide what they were going to do to help him. Very soon, Peeta’s home wasn’t going to be the same. He would be displaced, possibly into very unfamiliar territory, and Katniss needed to have her head on straight.

 

When her uncle was rested and they were all soaked through with the cool rain water, they finished the long hike to the cave, making it just before the rain increased from a fine mist to a heavy shower.

 

Once inside, Finnick and Marvel each produced a flashlight, shining them around the floor and walls. Next to Katniss, Peeta made a questioning sound, and she could see his eyes trained on the source of light in Finnick’s hand. She would have asked Finnick to let her show it to him if it hadn’t been for the mesmerizing art depicted across the stone walls. Finnick whistled long and low at the display.

 

“Wow,” Haymitch said, expressing in one word they were all thinking. Katniss had seen some of it already, and she knew Peeta was talented, but seeing it in a good light made her heart swell with pride for him. He was a perfectly imperfect man, a sweet soul, beautiful and gifted, hidden from prying eyes. What would have happened had no one come to this deserted island? She didn’t know down which path to let her mind wander - the what-ifs or the what-nows. She wanted to just live in the moment, enjoy being in paradise with Peeta and not have to think about anything else. There was no shortage of agony in her mind over what would happen to him once the world found out about him.

 

Katniss zeroed in on a family, happy and frolicking in the grass just outside a house, a mansion really, with at least three stories and rounded turrets topping the edges of the structure. It looked like a castle straight out of a fairytale. There were drawings of horses, and snow covered mountains, and long ropes swinging out over lakes with boys splashing into the water. Were these memories? Or were they dreams and aspirations?

 

Moving down the wall, Katniss saw the nightmare that must have been his shipwreck, and her gaze roamed the progression of events that brought Peeta to the island, starting from the entrance of the cave and winding throughout. Silence hung in the air as they all processed what they were seeing. Katniss’s heart ached with the loss Peeta had experienced laid out so vividly before them.

 

“Here,” Katniss said, pointing to an illustration of a stormy night. The boat looked like a toy compared to the enormity of the waves around it. In the picture, there was a woman holding a baby on the bow. In the next picture, the woman was half covered by one of the waves. In the following one, she and the baby were gone, and a man and small boy were left behind, the man reaching for the boy, and the boy reaching for where the woman once stood.

 

Then a boy, standing alone on a beautiful beach. A beach that he should have been able to build sand castles on with his mother and jump splash through the waves with his father. Instead, it was lonely and dangerous. How Peeta had survived all these years she could only attribute to his strength of will. He was smart and capable. He had to be, or he wouldn't be standing next to her.

 

Tears pricked the corners of Katniss’s eyes. His very soul was being laid bare to complete strangers. There was so much grief and pain in the images, and it reflected back in his expression. She wasn’t sure he could have communicated what he was feeling better if he’d had the words.

 

“Hey, look at this,” Marvel called their attention away from the drawings, turning Peeta’s knife over in his hands. “There’s a name on the hilt. It’s… kind of… faded,” he trailed off, squinting and bringing the object closer to his eyes for inspection. “Mel-lar?” He sounded out, sounding much like Peeta when he was trying a new word.

 

“Let me see that,” Haymitch said, reaching for the handle of the blade. “Shine your flashlight on it.” Marvel did as he was told, Finnick looking on over Haymitch’s shoulder. “He’s a Mellark.”

 

“What does that mean?” Katniss asked. It sounded to her like it might be a bad thing.

 

“It means he’s the missing heir to a fortune bigger than Finnick’s,” Haymitch explained. “They’re in everything from baked goods to import/exports to real estate. Forget having stumbled upon a gold mine. This boy is pure platinum, and he’s definitely going to make headlines.”

 

Finnick whistled again, which seemed to be his answer for everything, and it unsettled Katniss. In fact, the news did not excite her at all. The small amount of serenity she’d tried to cling to was quickly unraveling as Haymitch explained how almost two decades ago the Mellark family went missing during a three month long boating excursion. It had been splashed all over the newspapers and television sets, and apparently no expense had been spared when coordinating the search parties, and after two months of scouring the manifesto Henrik Mellark had left behind, all searches had been  abandoned.

 

“I’m not sure what his boys’ names were, but we’ll find out as soon as we get back,” Haymitch finished.

 

If it was possible, the lump in Katniss’s stomach turned to a brick. Marvel continued to look around while Finnick and Haymitch spoke to each other in hushed tones, or so it seemed since Katniss felt like everything was closing in on her. The cave spun and the floor ascended, and it would have greeted her head with a solid thwack if Peeta hadn’t been right next to her.

 

His strong arms guided her down onto the dirt floor, where he sat with her, holding her against him. Finnick and Haymitch rushed over to check on her, pulling out canteens of fresh water.

 

“I just got dizzy. I think I’m a little dehydrated and I haven’t eaten much today,” Katniss said, trying to dismiss the dread in the pit of her stomach over finding out who Peeta really was. She took the water and drank more than she felt like drinking.

 

Finnick pulled a protein bar from his small pack and gave it to Katniss, then went back to searching the cave walls for more information. She nibbled on the bar, offering some to Peeta, who tried some and wrinkled his nose at the cardboard taste.

 

When everyone was finished poking through Peeta’s minimal treasures, Haymitch spoke up. “I think it’s time to head back to camp.” He looked toward the cave entrance, and Katniss noticed the rain had let up. “Don’t wanna get caught up in another downpour.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve seen all I need to see. We need to make a plan,” Finnick said to Haymitch with a knowing look as he ran a hand through his still-damp hair. Katniss watched, hanging back as the three made their way outside. She turned to Peeta, who was still at the back of the cave, his toned back on display as he studied the wall. His finger traced the lines of his family delicately, as though the stone were made of the thinnest glass. He seemed lost in his memories.

 

After Haymitch and the others had fully exited the dank cave, Katniss walked up behind him, winding her hands tenderly around his waist, brushing his long hair over his shoulder and pressing her cheek against his bare back. “Katniss stay?” she asked. Her stomach was a ball of nerves, even though she knew he wouldn’t say no.

 

His hand rested on top of Katniss's, tracing the same pensive pattern across her knuckles before threading his fingers with hers. He was silent for a few beats, eyes focused on their hands. Her arms slid from his waist up around his shoulders when he turned to face her, and she could see the sadness in his eyes. Katniss realized how difficult it must have been for Peeta to relive his past with them, and she longed for nothing more in that moment than to soothe his heartache away.

 

She tucked a lock of his long hair behind his ear without breaking their stare. “Yes, Katniss stay,” he finally responded. She nodded, then asked him to wait.

 

She peeked out of the cave, calling out to the three men.  “I’ll meet you guys back at camp a little later. Peeta’s pretty broken up about all of this, so I think I’ll just stay and keep him company until he’s ready to leave.” She wasn’t asking, but Haymitch and Finnick gave her disapproving looks anyway.

 

“Katniss-”

 

“Look,” she said sternly, interrupting her uncle. “I’ve been hanging around with Peeta for three weeks now. If he was going to hurt me he would have done it by now. I’m safe with him, and he will escort me back to camp.”

 

Haymitch sighed in defeat. “Alright, Katniss. You know the boy better than we do. But be back by dinner,” he ordered, and the three disappeared down the windy, overgrown trail. Although he insisted on treating her like a teenager, she guessed it was better being hauled back to camp kicking and screaming.

 

Peeta hadn’t moved from the spot she’d left him, but she didn’t go back to him. Instead, she sat on his leafy bed, patting the space next to her. He did not hesitate, Katniss’s heart thumping harder with each step he took toward her. It was easy, being with Peeta. Too easy. Almost like living in a dream world. She didn’t know whether what she was about to do would shatter the facade or make the reality worth staying in, but she’d been considering his ‘question’ for two days straight, and it was time to give him her answer.

 

When he sat next to her, legs crossed Indian-style, Katniss decided she would not waste time trying to explain. This, the two of them together, could be just as comforting as a hug or holding hands.

 

“Katniss show Peeta,” was all she whispered before she climbed into his lap, one leg on either side of his hips, his hands immediately finding her waist. She took his face in her hands, and upon seeing his eyes darken, pressed their lips together. “Kiss,” she said, even though he already knew the word. He responded to her immediately, slipping his tongue through her parted lips, coaxing hers to move with his. He’d had enough practice lately to know how to kiss her, what she liked.

 

He kissed her languidly, a complete contrast to the heightening demands of her body. Her hands traveled slowly down his shoulders and arms before circling his wrists. She lifted his palms to her breasts, only breaking their kiss to tell him, “Touch.” She sighed in relief, encouraging Peeta with little gasps of delight when he stroked her tongue with his and massaged her increasingly sensitive mounds with his strong hands.

 

When the pleasure began to build, she rocked her hips into his. “Sex,” she said, and in the dimly lit cave Katniss could see the whites of his eyes as they grew round in wonder. His hands moved lower to her hips and he looked down, tightening his grip on her, helping grind her hips over him. His breathing picked up and Katniss could feel him rock hard between the simple fabrics of their clothes. It felt so good, so impossibly good rubbing against him, and she was glad he'd asked for this because she wasn't sure she could stop now.

 

He continued to guide her hips and she latched onto his mouth for another kiss, this one much more intense than the last. Her hands greedily roamed his back, pulling and pushing at him, mimicking his own hands. The rhythm was becoming more furious by the second, and the sheer desire taking over her body was dizzying. Katniss suddenly felt the need to be skin to skin, naked against him and she scrambled off his lap. If it weren’t for the lust coursing through her body she would have burst into laughter at his bewildered expression.

 

Peeta grunted his disapproval, his hands groping to pull her back, but she dodged him. He watched her as she pulled her tank over her head. Then he clambered to a stand when she unbuttoned her shorts, sliding them and her panties down her legs, kicking them off to the side. He followed her lead, ridding himself of the one garment he wore.

 

They stood, unmoving. Eyes roaming, chests heaving, bodies burning, taking in each other's nakedness. Peeta’s hands fisted at his sides repeatedly, as though he was holding himself back, and Katniss could feel the slick desire on the inside of her thighs. When she made no move to go to him, he finally stalked toward her, meeting her lips roughly with his and backing her into the cave wall. She squeezed his ass as he pressed his hips into her stomach, holding him tight against her. Katniss’s mouth went slack at the pleasure that rippled through her body from the pressure. “Oh, _fuck_ ,” she whispered before Peeta sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and tugged on it, grunting when he released it with a wet pop.

 

“Fuck, Katniss?” he asked innocently as he nudged her head to the side with his nose. He had no idea the effect his echoed words had on her. A burst of desire shot straight to her core, and her eyes rolled back in her head so far they needed a map to get back.

 

“Yeeessss,” she moaned as he trailed heavy kisses down her neck, suckling at each stop before moving lower. “Peeta fuck Katniss.” Her hands pressed into his tight pecs as she moved him back to his bed of leaves, her gaze boring into his so intensely there was no way he could mistake the look in them, virgin or not. His incredible blue eyes were dark and hungry, mirroring her own, she imagined. After she pushed him down to the ground, she climbed back into his lap, thankful she’d replaced her IUD a few months back, instead of removing it altogether after the divorce.

 

One more searing kiss between them and Katniss cupped his cheeks, locking eyes with him. “Ready?” she asked with a slight nod and a hopeful tone. Peeta nodded, his hands rubbing up and down her sides, sending shivers cascading over her body despite the warmth of the cave.

 

“Re-ddy,” he echoed. His breath hitched when her hand descended, over his chest and past his abs, finally wrapping around his cock. The skin was soft and silky, warm to the touch. The feel of it sent a rush of excitement through Katniss, and she had the thought to pump him a few times, but he didn’t need it. He was solid. _And big_ , she thought as her eyes darted between them.

 

Positioning herself over him, she rubbed the head of his erection through her folds before slowly sinking down onto him. She watched his eyes flutter closed, felt his hands grip her hips tight enough to leave marks, smiled when his mouth opened and a strangled breath left his lungs. She felt exactly the same, and she made no move to stop the moans falling from her own lips. But she managed to keep her gaze fixed on him, wanting to see the effect she had. It had been too long since she felt like she was able to please a man.

 

Katniss stopped halfway, raising herself back up, then dropping her hips again, until she was flush against him. She pulled Peeta’s chest to hers, then his lips, needing the contact at every point. The kiss was quick, sloppy, as Katniss pushed Peeta down on his back and began rocking over him, bracing her hands on his abs for support. Slow at first, adjusting to the size of him, and loving watching his face contort in so many different expressions - from awe, to relief, to utter bliss.

 

It was wonderful to Katniss, the excitement of knowing that Peeta wanted her like this, but not _just_ like this. She felt as though he craved her touch, her devotion and her nearness as much as she craved his in return. All these thoughts, mixed together with the way their bodies responded to each other, blended together so seamlessly in her mind. There was no doubt now that if he wanted her forever she would be his.

 

As much as Katniss wanted to shut her eyes and enjoy the way her body felt, she forced them to stay open, to watch Peeta experience a woman for the very first time. He pursed his lips repeatedly, biting the lower one now and then, and at times he seemed indecisive about where he wanted to put his hands. Katniss finally dragged them to her breaths, whispering, “yes,” when he took her cue and began to knead them. The faster he stroked her, the faster her hips moved, and in no time, Peeta was grunting his release, spilling himself inside her.

 

She watched his body convulse in pleasure, and she thought it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen - the crease of his brow, and the purse of his lips before rounding into the shape of an ‘o’. The way his shoulders and chest shivered in tiny bursts until his orgasm had fully abated; The grunting that was so inherently Peeta, and she didn’t care how primal it sounded. She loved it.

 

When his eyes finally opened, sated and clear, she could see the wonder pouring from them. His lips turned up in a small smile and he pulled her down to him, hugging her tightly. Katniss was incredibly satisfied in the knowledge that Peeta had enjoyed what she’d done, even though she hadn't found her release.

 

They lay joined for a few moments, until Peeta’s softening cock slipped out of her. He grunted softly, then placed a feather light kiss to her lips before shifting her off of him and rising, leaving Katniss alone on the bed of leaves. She watched him in his element, unabashedly naked, king of his domain, as he crossed the cool, dirt-packed floor of the cave to the small box Katniss had first noticed weeks ago.

 

Peeta brushed his thumb across the silver lock and it clicked open. Katniss wondered what he was doing as he stood in front of it for several moments before reaching in and pulling out something delicate that shimmered against the shadows of the cave walls.

 

He puddled whatever it was into the palm of his hand, watching it as though it may come to life, before his hand closed over it and he made his way back to the leafy bedding. He laid behind Katniss, uncurling his hand in front of her face. Her eyes trained on the tarnished silver chain that dangled from his hand, caught between two of his fingers. A dark silver pearl swayed back and forth on the end of the necklace.

 

Katniss sat up, placing her hand like a backdrop against the pearl to calm its motion for a better look. Peeta draped the chain over her hand, letting go of it.

 

“What is this?” Katniss asked.

 

“Mo-ther,” Peeta said. Katniss gaped at him.

 

“Mother?” she questioned. Was this his mother’s necklace? Was it all he had left of her? _Surely he wasn’t planning to..._

 

She watched, stunned and speechless, as he removed it from her hand and draped it over her neck, his fingertips brushing her skin as he swept her braid aside. Katniss captured the pearl between her fingers and stared at it after he had fastened it around her.

 

He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “Katniss, beau-ti-ful.” He had taken to  trying out words Katniss had taught him, but this was the first time she heard him use that one. It made her feel wanted.

 

Peeta wore a proud smile as his thumbs rubbed her skin lazily back and forth. It should be strange, she reasoned, sitting there completely naked and vulnerable with Peeta; a man she really had only just met. But everything felt so natural, as though it should have happened this way. She wasn't afraid or ashamed. With Peeta she was the truest form of herself.

 

The way he was looking at her, like he was seeing the moon and the stars for the very first time, made her insides melt and the urge to kiss him was overwhelming.

 

Katniss brought her hand to his cheek, guiding him down to her lips. The kiss was soft, sweet and full of promise. When she pulled back, she held his gaze, easing her fingers through his long hair. She didn’t have to look hard to see that he loved her, and she wondered if what she was feeling was just as evident in her eyes?

 

Katniss had never been one to openly show emotion, unless annoyance could be counted as one, but she felt such a strong connection to Peeta that she had to tell him something he would understand. She wasn’t sure he knew what love meant, and she might be ready to acknowledge it to herself, but she was definitely not ready to say it out loud, even though the depths of her feelings for Peeta were already so much more than she’d ever imagined possible. So far beyond what she’d ever experienced.

 

She rested her forehead against his, taking a deep breath. “Katniss and Peeta, always.”

 

 

* * *

 

The rain had let up, though it was still overcast outside, and Peeta was able to retrieve a fallen coconut and some berries for them to snack on. After they had eaten the fruit, they lay spooned against each other on the bed of leaves, Peeta trailing his fingers up and down against her naked hip. She hadn’t bothered to redress herself, knowing that Peeta was most comfortable that way, and honestly she was becoming comfortable with it as well.

 

“Peeta?” she asked, looking over her shoulder from where she lay with her back to his chest.

 

“Katniss,” he answered, continuing his ministrations as he stared down at her. She wanted to smile at the way he said her name, but what she needed to tell him was so heavy it kept her lips from curling up in the contentment it brought.

 

“Tomorrow…” she started, then stopped when Peeta’s brow furrowed in confusion. She tried again, drawing out her words in hopes he would understand. “Tomorrow, people will come to the island. More. People.”

 

Katniss hopped up and walked over to the picture he’d drawn of the day they landed on the shores of his island. She pointed to their likenesses. “More. People.” She drew a circle around them with her finger, repeating the phrase again as Peeta came to stand next to her.

 

“More. Peo-ple,” he echoed, and Katniss could see the wheels turning in his head. He tested the phrase again thoughtfully as Katniss’s finger continued to circle the group on the wall.

 

“Here,” she added, motioning down at the ground with both hands. She tried to add more words he might know, like boat and men. He watched her intently, repeating every word and trying to understand, but Katniss felt helpless in her communication with him about it. Kisses and the more physical things they had managed with little resistance to get across to each other, but getting him to understand this - the change that would surely affect his entire way of life - was proving to be more difficult than she thought. Maybe she should have spent more time teaching him how to communicate using words instead of how to communicate with his hands and lips.

 

Peeta drew Katniss into his arms, hugging her securely. “Katniss okay?”

 

Katniss wanted to cry. She buried her face in his chest and shook her head. “Nooooo,” she whined in frustration, but Peeta just held her, and Katniss was glad he sensed her need for comfort. They stayed locked together until the gray skies began to darken further as the sun was setting behind the clouds.

 

She knew it was time to get back to camp, or risk Finnick or Marvel being sent back to retrieve her in the state she was in. Even if Katniss got dressed, she couldn’t guarantee she’d be clothed for long if she stayed wrapped around Peeta like she was. Now that they’d officially had sex, it was going to be hard for her to focus when they were together. She’d need a clear head for what was coming.

 

But whatever happened in the near future, Katniss promised herself she would be by his side. That was the only way she could protect him.

 

No matter what, she wouldn’t allow them to be separated.

 

* * *

 

When they returned to camp, her Uncle eyed them for a few moments, though less suspiciously than he probably should have. Everyone sat around the fire, listening to the sounds of night as they contemplated what the best course of action to take with Peeta was.

 

“I need sleep,” Finnick grumbled. “I’ll think more on this tomorrow.” He walked by Katniss, pausing in front of her and giving her an understanding look. “Don’t worry, Katniss. We’ll help you keep him safe.”

 

The rest of them filed into their tents shortly after, Peeta following right behind Katniss, their hands interlocked under the cover of darkness. They stripped their clothes off in the shadows and, in spite of the emotional day it had been for both of them, as soon as they climbed into the cot their hands roamed, lips slid across skin, bodies molded together, each of them seeking comfort from the other.

 

Katniss’s body was strung tight as a wire from having been denied release earlier, and she had to work hard to keep her moans under control as Peeta’s hardening cock pulsed against her upper thigh. She reached for it, pumping him until it was fully erect in her hand, then he braced himself above her as she moved underneath him, wrapping her legs around his waist. He ducked his head to kiss her deeply while she guided him to her entrance.

 

When he pushed into her she was glad his mouth was close enough that she could swallow his heavy groans. She sighed in slight relief. His hips moved slow at first, and Katniss had to quell the urge to raise her hips to meet his. He needed to find his rhythm, so instead she touched herself, focused on her fingers gliding over the tiny sliver of flesh and the feel of Peeta’s cock thrusting in and out of her as he gained confidence and picked up speed.

 

She stared at him, in the middle of the throes of the most carnal passion, wondering how the universe had deemed her special enough to be granted time with this beautiful man. Everything about him was perfect - the sounds he made, the way he looked at her, kissed her, made her his. The tightening of his abs when he pulled out of her, and the utter bliss on his face as he raced to fill her again.

 

Peeta was intently watching where they were joined, her fingers moving diligently over the sensitive nub and he faltered a few times when he tried to mimic her movements. “Just watch,” Katniss breathed, gently maneuvering his hand away from her clit, linking their fingers and bringing the back of his hand to her lips. After she kissed his

 

They both found their rhythm again, and this time it was Katniss who soared over the cliff first. Peeta slowed and covered her body with his as she buried her face in his shoulder to muffle her high-pitched cries of pleasure. He did the same, groaning against her sweat-dampened skin as her walls fluttered around him. When she was finished he sped up again, and in no time he was filling her, his lips pursed tightly and his eyes squeezed shut.

 

Katniss was exhausted. Peeta collapsed beside her, and she felt like a ragdoll as he pulled her into him, settling his arm around her. Her eyes were so heavy she couldn’t have opened them if she wanted to. He nuzzled his nose into her hair and breathed in her scent. When he exhaled, his breath fanned across her neck, and he sounded as sleepy as she felt when he whispered, “Peeta, love, Katniss.”

 

The words swirled around her like tendrils of a comforting haze that she couldn’t quite make sense of, but she allowed them to draw her into a deep sleep. The kind she wanted to live in forever, where she dreamt of a house high in the trees, dinners made of fresh-caught fish, with sweet, pineapple glaze, and fried bananas. Of blond children playing around her, their delighted squeals filling the jungle air. A sleeping babe swaddled in her arms, eyes the color of the sky and hair dark as coal.  

 

* * *

 

The sounds of multiple voices floated through the tent, and Katniss blinked a few times to adjust to the light surrounding her. For the first time since she’d been there, she slept through the monkeys’ morning screeching.

 

She felt her skin pebble with gooseflesh, and she noticed she was oddly cold in the humid climate. Looking over her shoulder, she realized that Peeta wasn’t beside her. She sat up in her bed and glanced quickly around the tent. Panic swelled in her chest and she threw off her thin cover and grabbed her clothes, hastily putting them on.

 

She was about to burst through the tent flap when Peeta came through first, catching her by the shoulders as she plowed into the sturdy wall of his chest. His eyes looked unsettled, as nervous as she felt. More voices drifted around them, and Katniss realized some of them she hadn’t heard before.

 

“More, people,” Peeta said to her, fully understanding what she had tried to communicate to him the day before.

 

 _They were here._ Her heart sank and her stomach twisted into a hundred tiny knots. Things were about to change.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think of my virgin!Peeta smut? That’s my first time to write him that way, and probably only my fifth time to write sex at all. 
> 
> You may be wondering where the ‘L’ word came into play. I think it’s the one word that transcends across language barriers. Peeta’s main language is English, so it would be safe to say he knew it as a boy. And he had a mother, not the witch of a mother he had in the HG series, and I imagine she told him she loved him many times in the 7 years she was around. I know the word love in several different languages that I don’t speak or understand. But I know that word. It’s not a forgetful word. So I don’t see it as farfetched that he would remember it, especially when those types of feelings resurfaced. 
> 
> The dynamic is about to get trickier with the new crew. I wonder if they will be as understanding of Peeta and his ‘simple’ life? And let’s not forget the language barrier. The outline is already written, and I probably won’t deviate from it, but I’d love to know what you think it should be. Fanfic of my fanfic is highly encouraged. :) Talk to me! Pbg


	8. Chapter 8

Dinner around the campfire that night was uncomfortable for Katniss. She had become so accustomed to the four of them, and then the five of them, that the extra workers felt like an influx of intruders. They were loud, some of them obnoxious, and the blond man with ice blue eyes unnerved her with his hungry stares. Katniss had come to associate blue eyes with warmth and kindness, love even, but Cato seemed nothing like her Peeta. 

Her thoughts switched back to the man who was once a stranger, then her savior, and now her lover. He was probably high in the trees, if not in his cave. The longing she felt deep in her belly when she told him he had to go back into hiding was clawing its way to the surface. She couldn’t wait to get away from these strangers and back to him. They made her restless and on edge. 

She wondered if this was how Peeta felt when her small group landed on his island and stumbled upon his existence, as though the four of them were an invasion of his territory. Had he studied them with the wariness that swirled around her now like an ominous, dark cloud? Would he ever have made himself known if she hadn’t almost drowned or would he have contented himself to watch from afar? Her stomach sank quickly at the thought of never having known him, but she pushed it aside for the reality of the situation, no matter how tricky it seemed at the moment. Katniss sincerely doubted if the outcome would be quite as amiable as theirs had been with Peeta, and she was more than happy to go along with Haymitch’s suggestion of sending Peeta back into hiding. 

Finnick and Marvel had agreed to keep Peeta a secret from the newest group of workers. With no way to explain him without giving up who he was and fearing a frenzy of greed over the publicity of what a find like this could bring, Katniss had begged Peeta to return to the cave. He hadn’t wanted to, and they’d had their first quarrel, though it was short due to the limited communication. His body language had almost been enough to convince her to keep him by her side.

Before breakfast the morning the other workers arrived, Katniss had snuck him away from camp and taken him back to the cave. When it was time for her to leave he protested with the words _no_ , _stay_ , and _always_ , each one chipping away at a piece of her resolve, until she kissed him firmly and told him she had to go and he had to stay.

The sun had risen and set three times since then, and she was becoming more anxious to be with him with every passing minute. She’d hatched a plan in her own mind during the last lonely night. It defied her uncle’s reasoning, but she was beyond caring at this point. She excused herself when her plate was only half empty, ready to be rid of the unwelcome stares she had been receiving across the campfire from Cato. He had barely taken his eyes off her the entire time, and the food she’d managed to consume tasted like cardboard and felt like bricks in her stomach. 

“That’s new,” Haymitch said, catching her away from the others before she could get to her tent. He observed the dark grey pearl dangling just below the base of Katniss’s throat. Following his line of sight with her fingers, she stroked the pearl thoughtfully, wondering how best to explain the token. 

“Peeta gave it to me.” She settled for the vaguest reply.

“Where did he get it from?” 

“In the cave. It was in a wooden box,” Katniss answered. Haymitch shook his head at her.

“No, I mean _who_ did he get it from? It’s obviously something he brought with him when he was stranded here.”

“Oh, uh, it was his mother’s necklace.”

“His mother’s?” Haymitch raised an eyebrow in question. 

“Yeah, his mother’s. What of it?” Katniss snapped. Her uncle could be so evasive sometimes. It was tiring and all she wanted to do was get to Peeta. 

“Nothing, just seems like something very sentimental to give to the first girl he…” 

“He what?” Katniss demanded, unsure if she wanted to hear from her uncle’s mouth what he was insinuating, true or not. 

“The first girl he’s _infatuated_ with,” Haymitch finished, giving her a knowing look. 

Katniss knew what he meant, but the word infatuated still ground on her nerves. This wasn’t infatuation. She and Peeta had a connection. He was special. He wanted her and she wanted him, end of story, no matter who their critics were. 

She squared her shoulders and looked her uncle in the eyes, determined not to let him continue to minimize her relationship with Peeta. “It’s more than that, Haymitch.”

“I’ll say,” he agreed. “He gave you the equivalent of a marriage proposal, Sweetheart.”

“And what if it is?” she countered without thinking. _What if it is?_ It shocked her that she would so readily give in to Haymitch’s assumption considering her marriage ended less than a year ago, and not just with so little hesitation, but with butterflies of hope waking up inside her.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt again, Katniss,” he admitted, and she could see the deflation of any pretense he may have held. “He’s never met a woman. He hasn’t been a part of civilization in two decades. There are going to be people, _women_ \- rich, powerful, beautiful women - vying for his attention.”

Katniss balked. Felt like she’d been stabbed in the gut, but before she could spew a nasty reply he cut her off. 

“I’m not saying you’re not attractive, Sweetheart. Hell, you got a gay man to marry you. And I’m not saying that he’s not smitten with you... _here_. But you have to be ready for what’s coming. Integrating him back into his very lucrative, very posh lifestyle is going to bring the vultures right out of the woodwork.” He stopped and Katniss tried not to let his words get to her, but they were heavy and sinking slowly into a heart that was currently the consistency of warm oatmeal. “Do you think if you two had met under different circumstances you’d be together?” 

It wasn’t an accusation, but a thoughtful question. Meant to evoke her rational side and drag her from the fantasy she’d been living; the dream that was about to come to an end. As much as it hurt to consider, she couldn’t deny the terrifying notion that Peeta would have choices when he was restored to whatever family he had left. Would _they_ have a say in those choices? Would _they_ want to control him or let him make his own decisions? She couldn’t bear the thought of Peeta being told what to do, how to dress, or who to see. It was too much. Why couldn’t they all just go away and leave her and Peeta behind? Leave what she’d come to love intact and unspoiled.

“I’m not sure,” Katniss muttered under her breath. She wanted to say ‘yes,’ and saying ‘no’ out loud seemed like it would break her heart into irreparable pieces. When she thought of her future, she could not envision it without Peeta. 

“I just want you to be prepared. That’s all. Anyone can see the bond you two have. The way you look at each other. Like you’re the moon and stars and he’s the sun. He’s brought out a side of you I’ve never seen before. You’re more open and vulnerable. And it scares me for you.” Haymitch stepped toward her and pulled her into his arms. Katniss was surprised how comforting it felt, and she rested her cheek on her uncle’s shoulder, letting her arms hang loosely around his waist. 

“You’re my family,”  he said, his voice raspy, bordering on emotional. She heard him sniff and clear his throat. Then he patted her on the back as though she was his nephew instead of his niece, and he walked away, disappearing into his tent.

Katniss closed herself up in her own tent, waiting until everyone retired so she could sneak to the cave to be with Peeta. While she waited, she replayed Haymitch’s sentiments, grateful to know his hesitations came from a place of devotion rather than considering her young and stupid. 

But there was something rooted deep in her heart that wouldn’t accept his foreboding, and as she fingered the delicate pearl she realized that if this was, indeed, a proposal from Peeta, then wearing it around her neck was her _yes_. 

* * *

When it was quiet, and all that could be heard were the trills of cicadas and the soft swoosh of the stream behind their camp, Katniss took off toward the cave. She was more anxious than ever to see Peeta after her conversation with her uncle. She was light on her feet and knew the way, only slowing down at the sharp left turn in between the two banana trees that marked the entrance to the skinny trail leading down into Peeta’s home. 

“Katniss!” Peeta hissed, seeing her before she could fully make it to the mouth of the cave. 

“Peeta!” she returned in a quiet shout.

He met her just outside, as if he’d been watching for her, and the thought made her heart leap just before she launched her body at him. He didn’t miss a beat and as soon as her legs were wrapped around his waist, their arms tightened about each other and their mouths connected. The skin of her thighs and calves met the skin of his hips and ass, and she’d never been as pleased to find him bare. The longing between them was almost tangible, and played out in a frenzy of lips and teeth and breath. In no time Peeta had set her feet back on the soft earth and stripped her of her shirt and shorts, leaving her clothes scattered somewhere in the dark. 

He picked her up and hurried into the cave, setting her down before removing her cotton panties while she shed her bra. Unable to go a moment more without the feel of his bare chest on hers, she reached for him, tugging him up her body until he was settled between her thighs. When he pushed into her, the relief was instantaneous, and he lowered his head, grunting into the crook of her neck while she crossed her ankles over his back, encouraging him to go deeper. 

The grunts and groans of pleasure elicited from each of them were punctuated with the soft smack of skin as Peeta buried himself over and over inside her. They visited the heights of ecstasy more than once, unable to get enough of each other. After, Katniss snuggled into the warmth of Peeta’s body and fell into a peaceful, sated sleep, her head tucked into the hollow of his shoulder. The world outside of the cave and its rules were far behind her. 

* * *

The screech of the monkeys startled her awake. They were so much louder here that Katniss thought they must live closer to the cave than her campsite. When she tried to sit up, Peeta tightened his hold around her waist and sighed, fitting his nose into the curve of her neck. “Katniss stay,” he breathed onto her skin, his voice raspy with sleep and it made her want to kiss him fully awake. 

“I have to go,” she replied wistfully. She turned her face to his and saw one eye opened in question, as though he only needed a little clarification this time. “Camp.” He nodded and pursed his lips, releasing his hold on her. She watched him close his lids tight, yawning and stretching, and she allowed a moment for her eyes to take in his well-sculpted arms and washboard abs, roaming greedily down to the stiffness of his cock that was begging for attention. She felt a temper tantrum coming on. She wanted to stay. To relax and not think about time and new people and the life Peeta had waiting for him. But the noise of the monkeys taunted her. Aggravatingly so, and she knew if she wanted to get back before everyone was up then she needed to get moving. 

Reluctantly she pulled on her underwear and bra, trying to ignore the look of dejection on Peeta’s face. It only made her want to defy the logic of keeping him a secret. But that wasn’t safe for him. Haymitch had planted seeds of doubt in her mind the night before, but the imploring look on Peeta’s face was enough to wipe them away for now. He was as loathe for her to leave him behind as she was to do it herself. 

Peeta was still laying on his bed when she walked to the mouth of the cave to find the clothes they’d haphazardly left behind in the wake of passion. She was surprised, and then alarmed, after searching high and low for them, that they were nowhere to be found. 

“Katniss okay?” Peeta asked, walking up behind her. He must have sensed her distress. She could feel the warmth of his body just inches from hers. She wanted to melt into him already and it was barely sunrise. How was she going to go another day without being with him? 

“Nooooo,” she whined, dropping her eyes and shoulders in defeat. Realizing what kind of day it was already shaping up to be, she turned to him and let her forehead fall to his chest in frustration. “My clothes.” Peeta wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to her head. 

“Monkeys,” he sighed into her hair. Katniss lifted her eyes to his in understanding, and a feeling of dread coursed through her. 

_ Monkeys. _ Her eyes narrowed at the thought. She’d stayed away from them, well except for the one time, given them space, dutifully woken up to their calls every morning, and _this_ was how they repaid her? She hoped they would try to eat the cotton and choke on it. What was she going to do? She couldn’t go back in her underwear, and the only piece of clothing Peeta had were a pair of shorts. And he needed those more than she did. At least her parts were covered should one of the team happen upon her.

The apology was visible in his eyes. He needed no words for that -  the bright blue of his irises clouded by whatever he was feeling, guilt probably. Katniss didn’t blame him. It wasn’t his fault, but she had no choice but to get back to camp as quickly as possible to avoid being seen by anyone. She had quickness and stealth on her side, and hopefully time as well, so she spent  her last few moments sharing a slow and soulful kiss, and promising to return to him as soon as she could.

“I’ll see you tonight,” she told him before leaving.

She made record time on the trek back to camp. She was so quick, in fact, she didn’t think to check the clearing at the water’s edge until she was upon it, and had to stop short when she saw Cato crouched down directly across from her, filling a canteen. She wanted to kick herself because he may not have noticed her had she not gasped in surprise. At least it would have given her time to slink into the larger-than-life elephant’s ear plant that hovered at the edge of the trail.

He stood slowly, those ice blue eyes sending shivers through her entire body. She might have thought they were pretty except for the vulnerable way they made her feel. Like he had x-ray vision and he wasn’t afraid to use it. 

“Where were you coming from?” he asked, stepping into the stream toward her. 

_ Damn! _ What was she going to say? _Think, Katniss, think!_

“I, um,” she stammered, crossing her hands over her exposed stomach in an attempt to cover something, _anything_ , from his wandering eyes. Though, at the moment he was politely holding her gaze. The piece of it she could give him anyway, since she kept looking down in embarrassment, opting for a half-truth. “The monkeys took my clothes.”

“The monkeys took your clothes?” he echoed in disbelief. “Right off your body?” His lip quirked up in an amused grin and Katniss let out an uncomfortable laugh at the way it must have sounded. 

“Yes, I was washing them by the stream earlier,” she started, then stalled, hoping he got the hint that she didn’t want to prolong the conversation. His eyes never left her face, and even though he wasn’t outright ogling her body, she was still unnerved in his presence. The way he _didn’t_ turn away to afford her privacy was off-putting. Even when Peeta had seen her naked it wasn't because he wanted to look at her. It was just natural to him. He knew nothing different. But Cato, he was raised in societal expectations, and he should be affording her the decency of looking elsewhere. 

“Well, be careful. I’ve heard these monkeys are pretty dangerous.” Katniss wanted to smirk at his statement. Tell him she’d already been up close and personal and survived to tell the tale of wicked fangs and razor-sharp claws that slice through flesh like the thinnest steel. But that would mean having to keep talking to him while half-dressed, and possibly giving up their secret. 

She was about to agree when an irritated grunt she knew all too well, followed by a low growl came from somewhere behind her, capturing Cato’s attention and finally dragging it away from her. He splashed through the stream toward her. 

“Did you hear that?” he asked harshly. His eyes turned hard as he scanned the brush in the direction of the noise, and he grabbed hold of a handle in his belt, whipping out a blade so fearsome Katniss took a step back. 

“It’s probably nothing,” Katniss said nervously, trying to think of something to throw Cato off. _Peeta!_ she begged quietly. _Go back!_

“Look!” she shouted, pointing a little ways down the river. “Did you see that?” 

Cato craned his thick neck in the direction of her finger. He released a menacing growl and set off to see what she was talking about. Katniss took the opportunity to wade across the stream and sprint the rest of the way to her tent. She closed herself up inside and dove into her cot, shaking with relief and hoping she’d sent the hulking blond on a bit of a wild goose chase. She would have been pleased with herself for fooling such a brute if it weren’t for a feeling of dread. All she could do was hole up and hope that Peeta would stay hidden. 

* * *

Katniss sat in her tent, debating whether or not she should go out to pee. She’d kept her distance from the others the whole day, preferring to occupy herself in her tent rather than face scrutiny from Cato or have to endure polite chit chat. 

She’d taken a nap, scoured some of the pictures she’d taken a few weeks earlier, hoping she’d caught Peeta in one or two of them. No dice, though. She wrote in her journal for the first time since she’d come to the island. She’d never been one to keep notes, but she was surprised how much poured out of her about her time there. So much of it had to do with Peeta and she found herself missing him again, even though it had been just hours since they’d been together. 

Katniss grabbed the little trinkets Peeta had given to her weeks ago and stared at them, recalling how they met and the short time that had brought them to this place of intimacy in their relationship. How it all seemed to drag out and take no time at all. How it was so easy being with Peeta, and as her mind wandered back over their time on the island, Katniss couldn’t remember being unhappy in the last eight weeks that she’d been there, and for certain the six that she’d known Peeta had been the best by far. Maybe the best of her life. 

Haymitch’s warning pushed its way to the forefront of her thoughts, and she hastily set the butterfly cage and seashell necklace to the side, rolling the pearl that hung around her neck between her thumb and forefinger. The doubts from earlier returned, pecking away like annoying little birds at the security she’d felt that morning. 

“Katniss,” Haymitch called from the other side of the canvas. She flinched. 

“Yeah?” 

“You gonna eat today, Sweetheart?” He sounded concerned, and a little hopeful. “Why don’t you come out and join us?” 

As much as she didn’t want to eat dinner in the company of someone who’d caught her in her underwear, she knew she couldn’t hide for the rest of her time there. And she was hungry. Peanut butter and crackers only go so far, and it was mostly gone after Peeta had inhaled a large portion of it during his visits.

“Be right there,” she called back before cleaning up her things and stashing her journal back in her bag. She grabbed a bit of tissue, and on second thought before leaving, she draped a gauzy, long-sleeved button up shirt over her thin tank, hoping to ward off Cato’s gaze. Perhaps if there wasn’t much to look at he’d forget what he saw earlier. 

After relieving herself near a tree surrounded by dense foliage that she managed to locate her first day on the island, Katniss joined the rest of the group. There were triple the number of them now, and knowing she couldn’t keep all their names straight, she didn’t bother to learn the rest of them. She wouldn’t be there much longer anyway. Most of these people would be a faint memory, if that. 

“Yeah, one of ‘em was right near camp this morning,” Cato swore through a mouth full of rice and beans. It wasn’t Katniss’s favorite, but she was too hungry to care. He hadn’t noticed her yet, and she thought maybe putting on the shirt had been a little piece of luck. She grabbed a bowl and shoveled some of the food into it quietly, hoping to be discreet in the dim firelight. 

“The monkey’s don’t come this close to camp,” Haymitch replied. Just as she sat down at the edge of the circle near her uncle, about to take her first bite of dinner, Cato said her name.

“Katniss, there you are. Tell ‘em what we heard! They ran off with her clothes this morning. Poor girl was chasing after ‘em in her underwear when I found her.” 

Katniss’s spoon froze and she felt the heat of multiple pairs of eyes all pointed in her direction. Haymitch looked at her curiously, as if to say _‘what the hell?’_

“I… I didn’t hear a monkey,” she decided to say, then stuffed her mouth with two back to back spoonfuls in hopes that she wouldn’t have to say more. It wasn’t a lie, at least.

“Whatever,” Cato scoffed, clearly unimpressed with her avoidance skills. “But this place is creepy. I feel like I’m being watched all the time.” 

Katniss almost dumped the hot food in her lap, and Haymitch choked, launching grains of rice into the air. 

“You okay there old man?” Finnick asked, slapping him on the back a few times. “It’s just your imagination, bro,” Finnick said to Cato. “Don’t let it get to ya. It’ll make you crazy if you think about it too much.” Katniss silently thanked God for Finnick being quick on his feet. Between her deer-in-the-headlights act and her uncle choking on what the four of them knew to be true, Katniss thought everyone could see it flashing across her forehead like a giant marquee that read _Found: one mysterious, kind and gentle, super hot billionaire._

The conversation between the men turned to hunting, and what game the old crew had seen. Katniss covertly watched the way Cato sharpened the knife he’d drawn from his belt earlier as they talked. His eyes gleamed with mischief and it made her stomach churn anew with the same dread that had been lurking inside her for days now. 

Cato’s eyes caught hers and he smiled, though it seemed more sinister than sincere across the firelight. Unable to stand his presence any longer, she excused herself. 

“Hey,” Haymitch hissed as he followed closely behind. “What’s this business about you in your underwear?” 

Katniss stopped in her tracks. _Shit_. She hoped he wouldn’t ask. Haymitch already suspected what was going on between her and Peeta, so there was no point in lying. She was terrible at it anyway, and he would never believe her. “I was coming back from the cave. The monkeys did actually take my clothes.”

“Did they rip them from your body?” he asked sarcastically, and Katniss could tell he’d already determined the answer by her silence. 

“Don’t go back there again. You got it?” he ordered, thankfully glossing over the fact that she’d expressly ignored his warning. Katniss opened her mouth to argue, but closed it when he didn’t give her a chance. “Do you want to keep him safe or not? We all have to do our part, Katniss. Yes, some of us have it harder than others, but don’t you want to protect him for as long as you can?”

She wanted nothing more than to run into the jungle and call for Peeta. She knew he was watching. Knew he would come as soon as he saw her lips pucker with the first letter of his name. Cato had been right about that part. 

And because he was right, she promised Haymitch she wouldn’t go back and forced herself back into her tent for a long, sleepless night.  

* * *

_ First, it’s the water. It surrounds her, envelopes her like a cool cloud. Lulls her into false safety. Then it pulls, tugs at her, down, down, further and further until it the weight of it crushes. A hand grabs hers, yanks. She fills her lungs with the precious air, but no sooner is she plucked out of the ocean than she’s dropped into the jungle. Surrounded by teeth. Long and curved, sharp and gleaming. Beady eyes tinged with dark brown fur. The screeching is so loud, but her screams are louder as one claw slices through her cheek, then another across her chest. She kicks as one of them sinks its fangs into her calf. Two grab her arms while another helps drag her across the dirt by her braid. She calls for him, and within seconds she sees blue. But it’s not the blue she needs. The razor sharp blade he carries in his belt slashes through their fur, and one by one he tosses them away as though they were mere dolls, filled with nothing but air. When he reaches her, he raises his knife, his eyes emitting an arctic chill that send shivers up and down her spine.  _

“Katniss. Katniss!” an urgent voice whispers in her ear as she thrashes about in her bed. She feels warm flesh against her thin camisole as a comforting weight hovers over her. “Katniss,” he whispers again and rough hands stroke her cheek tenderly. “Katniss okay?” 

She opens her eyes, and in the darkness searches for the blue she needs. The relief she feels is short lived and she barely has time to take a calming breath when a dark shadow throws back the canvas flap and rushes into her tent. 

“Katniss?” Cato’s question is insistent, and Katniss now knows the dread she was feeling up to this point had been mild considering the situation she found herself in. 

Katniss realized a split second after Peeta jumped off the bed that he wasn’t clothed. She could only imagine what Cato was thinking as he clicked on his flashlight and shone the brightness in her direction, with Peeta standing in front of her in what she knew to be a protective stance - feet set, arms bowed at his sides, fists clenched in astonishment at the sudden intrusion. 

It all happened so quickly - Cato advancing in Peeta’s direction. The thundering _nooooo!_ that would leave Katniss’s throat raw for days. Peeta lunging at Cato. A glint of steel cutting through the ray of light, then the soft piercing of flesh. A grunt of pain, a body crumpled to the ground. 

Katniss was out of bed instantly, covering Peeta’s body with hers before his attacker could land another blow. 

“Katniss!” Peeta’s voice was frantic as he reached for her, trying to tuck her small frame behind his, shield her with his wounded body.

“What the-” 

“Get out!” Katniss screamed at Cato. When he didn’t move she screamed louder, throwing her arm towards the door. “GET OUT!”

Cato fumbled through the canvas flap, barely making it out as Haymitch and Finnick rushed in.

“What’s going on?” Finnick asked.

“ _Shit_ ,” Haymitch hissed, kneeling down next to the heap of the two bodies on the ground. “Give me your flashlight.”

Finnick handed it over and knelt down beside them. 

“Katniss, Sweetheart,” he tried to reach through her shaking sobs. “I need you to move.”

It was difficult to move as Peeta gripped onto her like a lifeline. But her attention to the panic and utter fear in his eyes when Haymitch shone the light on Peeta’s body was short lived. Her hand flew to her mouth to stop the guttural cry trying to wrench its way out. 

A slice to his thigh, the flesh there laid open, was the centerpiece of the garish scene. Peeta’s leg was covered in blood. Lots of it. She grabbed his hand and leaned down to whisper _I’m sorry_ over and over. 

“Katniss, go get the first aid-”

“I’ll do it,” Finnick offered, and he was gone before Haymitch could finish the sentence. Katniss was glad for it, though the reprieve of not having to leave Peeta’s side only lasted as long as Finnick’s words. This was a bad situation. There was a boat off shore, but they were days from the mainland, on a humid, tropical island probably teeming with bacteria and only enough medical supplies to deal with headaches, scratches and stomach cramps. 

Finnick returned with lightning speed, the plastic box open, gauze and antiseptic already in hand. “I’m going to clean the wound, Katniss, but can you stitch him up?” he asked calmly. She nodded, watching Peeta’s head move from side to side in agony. Every tiny whimper that escaped his lips was amplified by her fear. She tightened her grip on his hand, then released it to dig through the kit for the supplies. She tore the needle from its package and threaded it with haste, pausing only to glance at Peeta’s face again. 

His features were so contorted, a mixture of confusion, anguish, desperation and outright terror, it ripped Katniss’s heart out. She wanted to smooth away the lines of misery etched across his brow and around his mouth. His eyes were closed tightly, as though he was trying to shut it all out.

She took a deep breath, steadied herself. She could do this. She’d done it once before for him already, although that wound wasn’t as deep, and there wasn’t nearly as much blood. But she needed to get it closed up quickly before he lost any more. “Hurry, Finnick,” she pleaded, opting to begin suturing the part of Peeta’s leg that had already been cleaned. She bent over him, batting her braid out of the way before she began. “Keep the light steady,” she snapped at her uncle as she inserted the tip of the needle into the hot flesh. Peeta tensed and Katniss tried to calm him with words he knew. The ones they shared only between them. 

“Okay,” she told him, desperately wanting to believe it herself. _Won’t it be okay?_ “Stay. Stay with me, Peeta.” _Please don’t die, Peeta._ “Always.” _Don’t leave me._

* * *

“We need to go.” Katniss barked out the order, throwing back the canvas flap and following Haymitch into his tent. He rubbed his bleary eyes and Katniss knew he was just as worried. _In his own way, he loves Peeta, too_ , she thought. 

“I’ll take care of it,” Haymitch said tiredly. “The cargo ship is just off shore. Get your things packed, Sweetheart. We’ll be leaving at first light.”

Without hesitation, Katniss did as she was told. By morning she had cleared her tent of all her belongings and stacked them outside in a haphazard pile, she checked Peeta once more, his eyes opening, drowsily catching hers, then closing again. Even though he couldn’t see it, she smiled at him and whispered, “You’re going to be okay, Peeta.”

Katniss tore across the stream and down the trail to the cave after making Finnick swear to keep a close eye on Peeta. If the cargo ship was a few miles off shore it would take at least two hours to get close enough. She had time. Barely. But she was fast. And if Peeta was going to leave the island where he’d spend most of his life, she wanted him to have things that were familiar. To remind him where he was from when the craziness of civilization invaded his quiet life. 

When she reached the cave, she hastily loaded Peeta’s meager possessions into her arms. The wooden chest, his knife, the leather book she’d never cracked open. It seemed to be an album of some kind, but she didn’t have the time to look through it. She also didn’t want to invade Peeta’s privacy. She took one last look around the cave. The paintings all drawn by his talented hand and impeccable memory. What if this would be all that was left of him? _Stop it, Katniss_ , she scolded herself as a tear slipped down her dirty cheek at the miserable thought. She wiped them away, angry and determined. He was so close to getting the help he needed. It wasn’t over yet, and she was determined to do all she could to keep him safe. 

* * *

A knock at the cabin door caused Katniss to bolt upright. Her back ached from sleeping on the hard floor, but she scrambled to her feet, ignoring the pain shooting up through her neck. She couldn’t care about it right then. She was too anxious about checking Peeta’s wound, hoping for the best, fearing the worst. It had been deep, and he’d lost so much blood. 

She’d had hardly any sleep since the incident, she was so intent on giving Peeta her full attention. The first night Katniss had to work around the clock to keep Peeta calm. He’d tried to get up, tried to leave, drag her with him. But he’d collapsed to the ground, unable to even make it the ten feet to the exit of her tent. Katniss had to call for Finnick to help her get him back into the bed. The pain meds had worn off quickly as well. Finally, she crushed a sleeping pill and mixed it with water, which she’s hated to do. The feeling of betrayal, even if it was for Peeta’s own good, was strong. Haymitch had insisted it was for the best, and made the point that trying to get him on the ship in his confused state might be worse than asking forgiveness for it later.  

But Katniss hadn’t left Peeta’s small cabin since boarding the vessel. Her uncle and Finnick had both been in multiple times to check on her patient, though she was certain their lengthy stays had something to do with keeping an eye on her as well. 

She had started him on the antibiotic they brought when she noticed the skin on either side of the stitches was red and swollen, kept him hydrated, watched his breathing and sleep habits. He seemed to drift in and out of consciousness and it consumed Katniss with worry. It was only out of pure exhaustion that she’d fallen asleep at all. 

But one touch to Peeta’s sweat-soaked forehead that morning hitched her breath and confirmed her worst fear. “Come in,” she called, quickly removing the bandage. There were thin, dark lines trailing away from the cut, and when she touched her fingertips to it she felt the heat radiate from the skin, and Peeta gave a small whimper in his sleep. The medicine must not be strong enough to stop the infection. 

Haymitch stood next to her, eyes trained in the same direction as Katniss’s. “Well, that doesn’t look too good.”

“How much time to port?” Katniss asked, busying herself redressing Peeta’s wound, even though she knew it would do no good. The bacteria had already moved into his bloodstream, and with the amount of blood he’d lost, it wouldn’t take long to become fatal.

When Haymitch didn’t answer, Katniss stopped what she was doing to look poignantly at him, repeating herself. “How much time, Haymitch?” 

“Peeta’s not going to the mainland.”

“What?” she asked disbelievingly. “Haymitch, he’ll die! He has to get help now!” 

“He’s getting help, Sweetheart,” he raised his voice to talk over her, then lowered it when she quieted. “Just not where we’re headed.” 

“What are you talking about?” Katniss demanded, frustrated once again by the vague way her uncle delivered information. She went back to work on the bandage to distract herself from the feeling of dread that was tugging at her. 

“The South African government won’t allow him across their borders without documentation. We have no way to prove who he is, and there’s too much unrest in the area right now. They won’t let us into port with him on the ship, either, so I had to make a call.” Katniss’s mind raced to connect the dots her uncle was throwing out. 

“Mellark Corp,” Katniss said flatly when she realized there couldn’t be anyone else to call.

“I had to make a very compelling argument why they should send people to the middle of the Indian Ocean to help a man that we basically resurrected, but they finally put me through to his aunt. She’s… quite something,” he said thoughtfully. “They’ll be here by nightfall, medical staff on board. He’ll be okay, Katniss.” He patted her on the back, hesitated as though he had something else to say, but he closed the door behind him instead. 

The knowledge should have been more relieving than it felt, but she couldn’t shake the acute feeling that the worst was yet to come. A chill darted up her spine and she tried to chase off with a shake of her shoulders. 

Katniss sat on the edge of Peeta’s bed, holding his hand in one of hers while the other smoothed damp strands of hair from his forehead. She whispered comforting words to him, hoping he could hear her voice and know that she was there with him. Every now and then he would moan, or roll his head from side to side. She watched him helplessly, and thought about how differently it all could have gone. How he should have been able to make the conscious decision to leave the island for himself. How confused he was going to be when he finally came to. She thought about nurses and doctors, strange people poking him and hooking him up to machines. It terrified her to think of Peeta going through that kind of torture. But she would be there. She wouldn’t let them hurt Peeta any more than he’d already been hurt. 

The thoughts running through her head exhausted her. Only the whirring sound of an incoming aircraft called her attention away from Peeta. She let out a deep breath, only then realizing how shallowly she had been breathing. Her lungs expanded with relief, and a relaxed grin cracked the stoic expression she’d been wearing for days now. 

The door opened and Finnick appeared, his emerald green eyes glittering with relief. “Katniss, they’re here,” he raised his voice over the sound of rotating blades that followed him through the open air hallway. 

Katniss stood and began gathering Peeta’s and her things. A few moments later, beefy men dressed in all black with cargos tucked into combat boots entered the room with a gurney, laying it in the small space next to Peeta’s bed. They moved quickly, hoisting Peeta by his legs and shoulders, depositing him on the stretcher. When they began to strap him to it, Katniss frowned and started to argue.

“Why are you doing that?” When they ignored her, she kept on. “Don’t do that! If you restrain him he’ll just be terrified when he wakes up! Hey! I’m talking to you!” she yelled as they picked him up and carried him from the room. Katniss dropped the things she’d collected and followed closely on their heels. Out in the open air, the two men moved across the large deck towards the roaring helicopter. It was loud, and Katniss had to scream to be heard over the blades. 

“Take those off of him!” 

An older man dressed in white scrubs stepped from inside the chopper, intercepting her before she could get closer to Peeta. “Miss Everdeen, is it?” she wrinkled her brow at him in question before turning her attention back to Peeta, who was being loaded into the helicopter. She could see his head loll from side to side, as if he were starting to come to. 

“I’m Dr. Aurelius,” the man said, stepping in front of her. “Effie Trinket sends her sincere thanks for finding Mr. Mellark. We can take it from here.” Katniss zeroed in on the doctor, her eyes wide in horror. 

“I’m going,” she told him, her bravado fading quickly when she saw the pity in the doctor’s eyes. “We have to stay together! I’m the only one he knows!”

“I’m sorry, Miss Everdeen,” he said kindly. “We have orders to bring Mr. Mellark home. Alone. It’s a matter of security. I hope you understand.” He handed her a business card of all things, and she glanced confusingly between it and him. “I would be happy to update you on Mr. Mellark’s progress should you need it.” 

He hesitated, but before Katniss could make any sense out of what was happening, the doctor turned and boarded the chopper. 

“Wait!” Katniss screamed, realizing they were about to leave her behind. “Wait!” 

She ducked down to get closer to the door, and seeing Peeta inside, thrashing around, she darted toward the chopper. One of the men in black closed the door, but not before she heard Peeta call her name. 

Throwing herself into the hard surface, she banged her hands against the glass, locking eyes with Peeta as he struggled beneath the constraints. His eyes were wild, fists clenching, shoulders jerking. 

Arms encircled her waist and pulled her backwards, away from the chopper as she watched the doctor sink a needle into Peeta’s arm. “Nooooooooo!” she screamed, reaching for something, _anything,_ to keep him with her. She kicked and bit and scratched at the body tugging on her as the chopper lifted off the deck, all the while feeling like a caged animal. 

“Katniss, stop!” Finnick’s voice was in her ear, drowned out by the waves and the wind created by the metal blades. She had to go. Had to get to Peeta. _They can’t take him. They can’t!_ , her mind screamed. With one heavy stomp to Finnick’s foot, he howled in pain and let go of her. She took off across the deck, only stopping when the railing that kept her from tumbling into the sea connected harshly with her ribs.

Katniss watched, helplessly, as the helicopter faded into the sky. And when it was no longer visible, she bent her head and let the tears fall. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to hear your thoughts! Did you think it was going to be all dandelions and sunshine the whole fic? If not, what were you expecting? I promise I am working diligently on chapter 9, which is the last chapter. An epilogue will follow that, and this fic will be complete! I won’t keep you waiting. I want to publish it just as quickly as you want me to, trust me! Pbg


	9. Chapter 9

CH 9

 

 

Katniss leaned her forehead against the cold shower tiles as the water cascaded down her back. She felt nothing, so she turned the cold to the off position, trying to feel _something_. She had been numb inside and out for two weeks.

 

_Two weeks._

 

She’d spent the entire time without seeing, hearing, or knowing anything about Peeta. Her shoulders slumped. She felt as though she'd endured a physical beating, and she didn’t know if the hot droplets streaming down her face were tears or water from the showerhead. Finally, her skin began to burn.

 

 _Good_ , she thought, pinching her lips together as the pain turned to a sizzle. _Let it burn. Let it leave ugly scars to remind me._

 

A growl started deep in her gut, forced its way up, ripped from her throat into the steamy air as the water began to feel like needles of fire pricking her skin. Unable to take it any longer, she shut the water off completely, didn’t even bother to towel off before she fell into her bed for another fitful night of rest.

 

It felt like a year had passed since the incident in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Katniss had only been home for eleven days, but it may as well have been an eternity by the way time seemed to drag on. There was no sleeping, no eating. She’d forbidden her uncle from checking on her, and Finnick was on thin ice as well.

 

She’d cried enough tears that her cheeks were raw and her eyes would probably be red for weeks on end. She’d gone without sleep and food. Banged on the metal wall of the ship’s cabin in rage and desperation until her fists were red and swollen. Shut herself in the lavatory of the plane for an hour at a time just to get away from the suffocating presence of people. Now, alone in her apartment, there still was no reprieve for her loss. There was no place she could go to escape the hollow feeling deep inside, and she wondered if there ever would be.

 

Haymitch and Finnick had been attentive for the rest of her time on the ship, as well as the long flight back from South Africa. Close by to help if they were needed, but not too close. Katniss needed her space to think. To figure out how she was going to get back to Peeta. But on the final flight back to the U.S., as she replayed the day Peeta was taken from her, over and over in her head for the thousandth time, she realized something; something she’d been too shocked and overcome with emotion to see at the time. They way Haymitch stood back, kept his gaze from hers after the helicopter had disappeared on the horizon. The conversation before it all happened - _Peeta’s not going to the mainland. He’s getting help... just not where_ _we’re_ _headed._

 

The traitorous words echoed through her mind and she berated herself for not having seen it before. All through customs, and the thirty minute ride to her apartment, Katniss seethed. Barely able to tamp down her aggression. He’d known. He’d known they would be separated and he hadn’t told her.

 

“You knew,” Katniss breathed menacingly once Haymitch and Finnick had dropped her bags in her apartment. Her hands were shaking and she was losing the ability to keep herself composed anymore.

 

“It was what was best for Peeta. And you, Katniss.” Haymitch’s words were matter-of-fact. She looked at Finnick, who at least had the decency to drop his gaze. His throat bobbed when he  swallowed, then shoved his hands into his pockets shamefully.

 

Her uncle couldn’t have seen it coming. She’d never raised her hand to him before, but _this?_ This was inexcusable. There was no other expression she’d tried that could quell the hopelessness that opened up in her chest like a black hole, threatening to suck her into the void of a lifeless existence.

 

Out of sheer desperation, Katniss lunged at her uncle, scraping her fingernails down his cheek and drawing blood. She screamed terrible things at him while Finnick dragged her away, just as he’d done on the ship when they took Peeta. She clawed at his arms, peeling skin back and he growled in barely restrained agitation.

 

“Alright, stop!” Haymitch hollered after dabbing at his face with one hand, seeing blood across his palm. “That’s enough, Katniss. Finnick let her go.”

 

Finnick hesitantly did as he was told, then disappeared into the hall when Haymitch asked him to give them a few minutes. Katniss was breathing heavily, glaring at him through the ragged hairs that had escaped her braid, tumbling down over her forehead.

 

“Why?” Katniss’s voice was broken, and she was too exhausted to form any other words.

 

Haymitch dabbed a paper towel to his cheek as he moved to stand across from Katniss. “It wasn’t the best judgement call, alright?” he started. “I should have told you, but you were already wound up about the boy, and I knew if I told you, you’d put up a fight they couldn’t ignore. I was afraid of what they’d do to you-”

 

“They couldn’t do anything worse to me than what you’ve done, Haymitch! I’d rather be dead right now than feel this,” she yelled, slapping her palm over her heart. It may have been over the top to say it, but no one could tell her how she felt. Her emotions were hers and hers alone to determine.

 

“Sweetheart-”

 

“Don’t call me that!” she wailed.

 

Haymitch raised his hands in surrender, tender regret in his expression. He spoke so softly she almost didn’t hear him “I’m sorry, Kid. I did what had to be done.”

 

Unable to listen to his excuses for why any of this was _good_ for her and Peeta, Katniss stalked to her room and the door slammed hard enough to rattle the walls, the windows, the dishes, and her uncle.

 

Katniss’s stomach rumbled as she stared at her phone, willing it to ring. She ignored the hunger in her belly. It was a silent protest to the universe that she was angry. Bitter. Unforgiving of what she'd had to go through. Dr. Aurelius still hadn’t returned any of her messages. After four weeks of persistent calling she must have left over a hundred voice mails.

 

Katniss laid the phone face down on the kitchen counter, wanting, _needing_ , to gain a hold back on her life but not knowing how. She had no idea what normal was anymore, or even what she wanted it to be, and wondered if feeling adrift and damaged might be her new normal.

 

Through her bedroom door she spied her duffel bag on the floor. She still hadn’t unpacked it.  With a deep breath she hauled it onto the bed and dragged the zipper across it, freezing when she saw Peeta’s leather book. Her personal effects forgotten, Katniss situated herself on the couch and opened the book. Flipping through it slowly, she smiled at the serious portraits of the young Mellark family, laughed at the silly pictures of the father wrestling with the older child on a beautifully manicured lawn - the mother sitting across the way holding an infant. She cried quietly when she reached a photo of Peeta as a young child. His hair was different, lighter and cut very short, but his eyes and his smile left her with no doubt it was him.

 

She stared at him, remembering the man she knew on the island, trying to place him as the boy in the book as her fingers subconsciously found their way to the pearl hanging around her neck.

 

That night, before she fell asleep, and as she did every second of every day, she thought about what Peeta might be going through. Was he calling for her, or was his memory of her fading away? She wondered whether he would remember her if they passed on the street one day. She had thoughts of what torture he might be going through. Doctors and needles and questions and probing. Was he scared? Angry?

 

What happened to his leg? What happened to him?

 

She didn’t understand why she’d been shut out. Was it Peeta? His family? Katniss wanted so badly to be back on the island, in _his_ jungle. In _his_ embrace. If she could only turn back time, she would have told them all from the beginning who Peeta was. Things could have turned out so, so differently.

 

Exhausted, she set her phone to the sounds of the jungle - the sweet cadence of falling raindrops mixed with the chirp of insects. It reminded her of her time on the island, and she considered it her own personal form of torture. The way she saw it, she deserved it. She couldn’t help Peeta when he needed her most.

 

Three months had gone by with no word about Peeta. Haymitch had been zero help and Finnick had returned to the island already to oversee the groundbreaking on the first building.

 

Katniss was beginning to think it had all been a dream. That Peeta was a figment of her imagination. That she’d imagined his kiss, his touch, his tenderness. It would make sense then - the unnatural blueness of his eyes, surviving alone on the island from such a young age.

 

Searching the internet and watching the news yielded no information. Either his family was extremely good at keeping his whereabouts a secret from the entire world, or he was a ghost.

 

She’d gone over and over every scenario in her head, trying to decide what was real and what wasn’t. It was only Peeta’s tangible belongings that renewed her faith in his existence.

 

She was living on autopilot lately, and didn’t even realize she’d redialed Dr. Aurelius’ number. She was immune to the incessant ringing that only ended with a vague voicemail message. She’d stopped leaving words by now. Only silence filled his message box now.

 

“Dr. Aurelius speaking,” the voice echoed through her phone’s small speaker, jolting her out of the brain fog that never seemed to lift.

 

“Hello?” Katniss asked disbelievingly.

 

“This is Dr. Aurelius. Who am I speaking with?” he questioned.

 

“Katniss,” she answered quietly.

 

“Ah, Katniss,” he said, as though he knew her well. Her face scrunched as she tried to figure out his tone of familiarity. “What can I do for you?”

 

Suddenly all of the questions that had been swirling through her mind for weeks were gone.

“P-Peeta…” she uttered his name out loud for the first time since he was taken from her.

 

“Now, Katniss,” the doctor began in a serious tone, “I am the Mellark family physician. I am under a strict doctor/patient confidentiality clause-”

 

“Is he okay?” she interrupted, terrified he would finish his statement and hang up before she could ask. “Please… anything,” she begged.

 

He sighed through the speaker and beats of silence passed, every one of them audibly punctuating the fact that he was going to remain true to his clause.

 

“Please,” she whispered over and over, speaking more to herself and the walls of her apartment than the doctor.

 

“He’s doing better,” Dr. Aurelius finally said in a hushed tone. Katniss sank back into her couch cushions, free of some of the heaviness that had been weighing her down.

 

“When can-”

 

“That’s all I can give you at the moment. Please understand that I’m putting my career at risk even telling you that much right now. I’ll be in touch,” he said, disconnecting the line.

 

The light from the laptop was shining in Katniss’s eyes. She’d been trying to work on editing photos for the recent shoots she’d done, but all she was able to think about was Peeta and the island. It had taken her weeks to upload them. Before that she wasn’t able to stomach looking at them at all. Even though she’d taken none of Peeta, a fact she’d cursed herself for more than once, it reminded her of him just the same.

 

Memories, it seemed, were all she would have. After five months of being state side, Katniss still had no clue of what had become of Peeta, her stranger turned savior, turned lover, now back to stranger. And she’d given up hope that Dr. Aurelius would contact her again. It had been eight weeks since he told her he’d be in touch, and that had come to a big, fat nothing.

 

The island had been meant to be a temporary escape, to give her a few weeks of peace and reflection. Help her pull herself together before facing the real world again. Instead, it had opened up a whole new world. A world in which she wanted to freeze and live in forever. After having it ripped away, the shame of losing her own husband to another man seemed minimal in comparison.

 

It had to be because Peeta felt the same way about her that she did about him. At least she hoped he still did. But hope had become a fickle thing to rely on. She was plagued by images of Peeta as broken as herself, with no one to comfort him. Did Peeta silently beg the heavens as much as she did that they would be reunited? It was torture, but she allowed herself to imagine it anyway. For now, it was better than imagining him living life without her. That was when the thoughts turned too dark for her to handle.

 

Another blisteringly hot shower later, Katniss flipped over in her bed like a rotisserie chicken, trying to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in. It wasn’t easy. She’d taken to fitting in a few power naps each day because of the lack of sleep at night. The nightmares were no better than they had been on the island without Peeta there to comfort her when she woke. They were actually worse. She snapped out of sleep in cold sweats, her body trembling when her subconscious replayed the day Peeta was taken in the chopper. Dr. Aurelius and his bodyguards seemed harmless enough, but when they loaded Peeta into the helicopter, their eyes turned red and Katniss noticed prominent canine teeth in their sinister smiles.

 

Unrelenting, her fists pounded the glass over and over, each one reverberating through her dreams like the blast of a cannon, signaling defeat. She wasn’t strong enough to break through, to bring him back. Her throat was raw from screaming Peeta’s name, screaming for him to stay when suddenly his eyes flew open locking onto hers, red as the blood that had poured from his wound. And fangs, eerily similar to the monkey’s, slid out from under his lips.

 

Katniss had no idea what they were, but they weren’t human. They were pure evil, an experiment gone horribly wrong, and whatever they injected Peeta with that day turned him into one of them.

 

But she was powerless to stop any of it.

 

It was times like these that the darker part of her, the part that wanted to stay in bed for days on end, curled up in the fetal position, wasting away to skin and bones, wondered if it was worth it. Where would she be if she hadn’t known Peeta? She supposed she might be a shell of who she was now, with no idea of what truly loving and being truly loved felt like.

 

Katniss jumped at the sound of her phone vibrating on the nightstand. A glance at the screen set her pulse racing. She’d called that number enough times that she could dial it in her sleep, and she almost dropped the phone, her hands were so shaky.

 

“H-hello?”

 

“Katniss?” She wondered if she were, in fact, dreaming this voice. She’d only spoken to him twice, and it had been a while, but Dr. Aurelius’s voice was one she imagined over and over she would hear again.  

 

“Where is Peeta? Can I see him? Why haven’t you called me until now? Is he okay?” she skipped straight to the questions she’d been holding in for months now. Fuck formalities. She didn’t care to make any small talk with the doctor. If he was going to cut her off again, she’d at least get to say what she wanted this time. This might be the only chance she got.

 

“Katniss,” he began, so steadily, like a father about to deliver bad news that it made her lungs refuse air. “I shouldn’t be calling you, and you have to give me your word our conversations will stay between us.”

 

Katniss shook her head emphatically, oblivious to the fact that Dr, Aurelius could only hear her.

 

“Katniss?”

 

“Y-yes. I understand,” she said when she found her voice.

 

“Peeta is doing fine. We’re working through some things, but I can assure you he is well taken care of.”

 

Silence hung heavy before Katniss’s tears turned into sobs. She could only imagine how ridiculous she sounded, a grown woman blubbering and coughing on tears into a cell phone. But Peeta was okay. It hurt that she wasn’t there, that she wasn’t the one taking care of him, but she couldn’t be so selfish as to begrudge him the best care money could buy. And who was she anyway? A middle class, freelance photographer, pining away for the heir to a billion dollar estate. The scales were so unbalanced and, hard as it was to swallow, not in her favor.

 

“He asks about you every day, Katniss.” The doctor’s soothing voice reached through the line and wrapped around her like a reassuring hug, meant to calm, but instead releasing a torrent of emotion she was incapable of speaking through. It restored an ounce of the hope she’d been losing steadily for weeks. Then, as if her thoughts were loud enough for him to hear, he added, “Don’t give up hope, my dear. It won’t be long. Just wait for my call.”

 

The line was dead before Katniss could ask what he meant, but hours later she fell asleep to the echo of his words in her head.

 

_It won’t be long._

 

The Cuban cafe below her apartment normally tasted heavenly. Today, however, lunch was bland, drab. The rice tasted like cardboard and the chicken like the soulless existence she’d been forced to live without Peeta these last six months. As she sat outside the little cafe, she noticed the skies weren’t blue enough, the air not fresh enough, the land around her too developed and crowded. She longed for the island, but without Peeta to share it with her, it would be nothing short of torture. It seemed the bitter ache she carried around would never subside.

 

Katniss might have been able to get back to some semblance of her former life if the doctor hadn’t called her back. But he had. And he’d basically read her mind, made her believe again, set her back months of grieving. Now, four weeks later and without a solitary word from him, she was back to the same feelings of desolation that were driving her mad back then.

 

She slid her fingers across her neck until they closed around the pearl. She found herself rubbing the smooth iridescent surface of the pearl back and forth against her lips, as she so often did when she was missing Peeta. It was soothing. A cool kiss from the giver himself.

 

Suddenly, her phone rang from inside her purse, and she released the pearl to grope for it, buried deep down. She tried not to hope it was the doctor’s number. She knew she would just be disappointed if she did, and, true to her doubt, it wasn’t the doctor. But she didn’t recognize the number, either.

 

She raised the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

 

“Is this Katniss Everdeen?” a woman’s voice questioned her.

 

“Who is this?” Katniss answered after a moment, not willing to give up information about herself without first knowing who she was talking to.

 

The woman sighed. “This is Effie Trinket. I am Peeta’s aunt. I’m calling in regards to-”

 

“How is he? Where is he? Can I see him?” Katniss battered Peeta’s aunt with the questions she’d begged of the doctor. Since this Effie person was family, she could tell Katniss what was happening without fear of consequences.

 

“He’s wonderful, dear,” she said, but the droll tone of her statement put Katniss on edge. What did she mean? Wonderful as in he’s fully recovered and asking for her? Or wonderful as in he’s loving his newfound status as one of the richest heirs in the country and doing just fine without her? Somehow she had more faith in the latter than the former.

 

“I would love to meet the person to whom Peeta owes his salvation, and I owe my gratitude. Are you free today?”

 

“Y-yes,” Katniss replied warily. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure where this was going, if she would get to see Peeta, or if it was just a meeting with his aunt. But Effie knew his whereabouts, so that was a step in the right direction at least.

 

“Give me your address and I’ll send a driver to pick you up.” A driver? _Fancy._

 

After a quick exchange of information, Katniss hung up the phone and sat quietly, thinking back on the conversation. The woman seemed awfully formal, and Katniss knew she was rich, but she’d really never had any reason to impress socialites before. She looked down at herself, making a face at the stain on her white v-neck sweater and the wrinkled khaki pants she’d thrown on after rifling through her barren cupboards. She should run up to her apartment and change, right? Peeta had seen her sweaty and covered in mud before, but she didn’t need to impress Peeta.

 

Effie said to expect a car in an hour, so she had to time to freshen up. She raced upstairs, almost forgetting to pay for her meal. Luckily, since she lived in the building, she knew the staff and they didn’t chase her down to try and make her wash dishes.

 

Katniss stood in her bedroom, looking at her closet. What do you wear to meet a billionaire? Even if she knew, she still wouldn’t have found it in her closet. Evening wear wasn’t something Katniss had ever needed. She opted to wear something familiar for Peeta. It had been six long months since he’d seen her. She hoped he didn’t need a reminder of who she was, but just in case, she put on the exact attire she’d worn while on the island - cargo pants and a cami - with the addition of a faded, leather bomber jacket and worn hiking boots to match the crisp, fall weather they were experiencing. She checked her braid, smoothing down any stray hairs that seemed to have escaped, and brushed her teeth.

 

Katniss watched the clock on the bank building across the street, pacing back and forth on the pavement in front of her building. This had to be, without a doubt, the longest hour of her life. Her eyes followed every car, read every plate, examined every driver, until she snapped to reality that she should be looking for a limousine or a Bentley to flag down. There were exactly zero billionaire-type cars in her lower middle class neighborhood, so it shouldn’t be difficult to spot, and she was surprised when a simple, black Cadillac SUV pulled up to the curb, the darkly tinted back window sliding down.

 

“Katniss?”

 

Though it had been six long months, she hadn’t forgotten what Dr. Aurelius looked or sounded like, and if it hadn’t been for the softness in his voice she might have bolted, expecting beady, red eyes and protruding canines. But Peeta was at the end of wherever this SUV was taking her, so even if the doctor really did become a monster, which Katniss knew deep down was ridiculous, she didn’t care. She was done being without Peeta.  

 

 

The drive through the countryside would have been relaxing a year ago, but being so close to seeing Peeta again was like hanging on the edge of a cliff by a fingernail. Every second was agonizing, and she wouldn’t be rescued until she looked into his blue eyes and felt his arms around her. Anywhere, any part of her. It didn’t matter at the moment, so long as she could see him and touch him.

 

An hour later, they pulled up to an enormous set of iron gates. They were both beautiful and intimidating, probably much like the Mellark family used to be, with their charm, good looks and vast wealth. Beyond the gates, a driveway wound through dense trees and out of sight. Once through the woods, the landscape opened up into a beautiful lawn, complete with rolling hills, a lake, and a massive mansion beyond. Katniss recognized it from the cave drawing. This was Peeta’s home.

 

Her heart skipped a few beats, and her legs turned to mush as she realized what, or _who_ , was up the rounded concrete steps and beyond the big, white columns and imposing double doors. Peeta could be in there somewhere.

 

She followed the doctor inside the home, where they were met with a number of servants offering to take her belongings, bring her a refreshment, and show her to a ‘great’ room.

The walk through the house was too long. Too quiet, save for light footsteps on shiny marble floors. Katniss suddenly felt very underdressed.

 

“Dr. Aurelius,” a man dressed like a secret service agent greeted him formally as he maintained stoic posture outside a pair of solid oak double doors. Was he a guard? Was Peeta under house arrest or something?

 

The doctor turned to Katniss. “Here you are.” He stepped back from the door.

 

“You’re not coming?” she asked Dr. Aurelius, curious as to why he was backing away.

 

“I have a session,” he admitted in a very professional tone she hadn’t heard him use with her since the day she’d met him. He nodded slightly, dismissing himself before strolling back down the hallway.

 

Before she could take a breath to calm her nerves, the guard opened one of the doors. The enormity and pretentiousness of the room rooted her in place. It was definitely a place she didn’t belong. It was grand, filled with all manner of expensive furniture, fine rugs, antiques that probably cost more per piece than her yearly wages, and a chandelier so big and gaudy, the thought of walking underneath it frightened her.

 

“Come in, darling, don’t be shy,” a woman’s voice commanded the large space. She wasn’t hard to find in the center of the room, her high, bright orange hair competing for attention with the more ostentatious features around her. She rested in a black, leather high-back chair, ramrod straight with her ankles crossed and her hands on the armrests beside her. Her pencil skirt and suit jacket matched her hair color, and her lips were painted in the exact shade as well.

 

“Where’s Peeta?” Katniss stuttered, walking cautiously closer to the woman, whom she presumed to be Effie, a feeling of unwelcome keeping her from moving too quickly or plopping onto the uncomfortable looking sofa. Her dream of reuniting with Peeta soon was evaporating rapidly as her eyes darted around the place. Peeta wasn’t here. At least not in this room.

 

“Have a seat,” the woman said, avoiding the question while she waved delicately to the matching leather couch.  Katniss perched warily on the edge of her seat.

 

“I’m Effie, Peeta’s aunt.”

 

“Where’s Peeta?” Katniss asked again.

 

“Now, now,” Effie chided softly, “let us get to know one another first.” Katniss didn’t want to know this woman. She only wanted to know where Peeta was, and if he really was okay. “I want to know who this person is that my dear nephew can’t stop talking about.”

 

“Peeta… talks?” she asked suspiciously, trying not to give away how badly she wanted to see him. Her insides were quaking while she kept her outward composure.

 

“Oh, yes, Peeta is a completely different man from the one that was returned to me. The Board of Trustees will be so pleased with my work.” Effie’s eyes were bright and her countenance full of accomplishment.

 

“It’s so good to have him home,” she went on, and with each word she spoke, she took on a more genuine appearance despite the flashiness. “When I thought I’d lost my entire family, it was devastating, to say the least. I can’t tell you how it felt to receive the phone call from your... uncle, was it?”

 

Katniss nodded.

 

“Yes, well, it was almost as though I’d been given a new chance at a family. I’m a widow, you know. Peeta’s father was my only sibling, and I have no children of my own. When they were lost, well….” Overcome, Effie waved her fingers in front of her nose. “At any rate, it’s been a very long road for Peeta.”

 

Katniss sat rigid, listening intently to Effie’s depiction of Peeta’s wound, and how he almost lost his leg. He’d had to go through two months of physical therapy as well as meeting with Dr. Aurelius on a daily basis for psychoanalysis. It dawned on her then, that must be where Peeta was now. With the doctor. She scanned her memory of the direction the doctor had taken, wondering how quickly she could find him if she needed to.

 

Effie went on and on about how often Peeta had called for her. How he had appeared so visibly shaken that the only option to calm him down was to inject him with sedatives, and Katniss had to blink back tears and try to steady her breathing. If he had called for her so much why had they not given him what he wanted? The knowledge that he’d been tormented this entire time, most likely having a worse effect than the separation had on her, was sickening. Instinctively, she reached for her pearl, and twisted it between her fingers.

 

“Can I see him?” she asked, no longer able to sit quietly and listen to Effie talk.

 

Peeta’s aunt narrowed her eyes a little, and Katniss felt the heat of her gaze zero in on the pearl. “That's a lovely necklace my dear. My mother had one just like it.” Katniss’s hand covered the pearl protectively. Did Effie know it was one and the same? Whatever her intentions of bringing it up were, Katniss felt a shift in the air around them. The reminiscent Effie had faded, and in her place was a woman on a mission.

 

“I want to see Peeta,” Katniss insisted, rising to her feet. Effie leaned back as though she feared Katniss might advance upon her.

 

“Young lady-” Effie started to scold her, but she paused, lips pursing and eyes narrowing as they drifted over Katniss. “Very well.” She picked up a cell phone from the claw-footed table next to her and typed something into it.

 

“He’s on his way,” Effie said with an eerily satisfied smile. It made Katniss’s stomach twist like a pretzel, but she kept her eyes glued to Effie’s in a staring contest. No way was she going to back down from this woman. Katniss could tell the older woman was used to getting her way, even controlling people if she needed to.

 

Silence stretched on forever, until finally the doors opened and Katniss whirled around to face a young man, handsomely put together, strolling into the room. His hands were stuffed casually in the pockets of his pants, and the only certain recognition Katniss had were the blue of his eyes. When they landed on her they flashed quickly with familiarity, and then it was gone, replaced with confusion.

 

Katniss wanted to run to him, throw herself around him and feel relieved, but she couldn’t allow it just yet. Something wasn’t right. Peeta approached her slowly, like he was seeing an apparition, until he was just steps away. His gaze bounced back and forth between the two women, then rested on Katniss. He looked at her with such hesitation it made her heart almost explode.

 

He searched every part of her face with his eyes, and his fists clenched and released at his sides several times, as if he was debating whether or not to touch her. All Katniss had wanted  she’d been about to get, but now, standing two feet in front of her, Peeta seemed even further away.

 

As he stood there silently, contemplating something Katniss wasn’t sure she wanted to know, she had the chance to look him over. This was not the man who’d been taken from her in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Along with his hair having been cut short and styled in perfect, single, billionaire bachelor fashion, the rest of him had been made over as well. From the dark blue, skinny tie around the neck of a white, button-down shirt, to the reptilian-skinned belt holding up well-tailored suit pants, all the way down to the black oxfords covering his feet. They  probably cost as much as Katniss’s rent, and it was clear his aunt had had her fancy way with him.

 

“Manners, Peeta,” Effie trilled from behind her. The hairs stood up on the back of Katniss’s neck, and she wanted to cut the impossible woman down with an icy glare, but she couldn’t disconnect her gaze from Peeta’s.

 

“Katniss, it’s nice to see you again,” he said to her in perfect English. It was like his voice. Almost his voice, except there was something new in it. An edge of suspicion and reproach.

 

He held out his hand, obviously practicing the hospitable manners Effie had forced upon him. She’d rather he not stand on ceremony with her. She’d give anything for Peeta to take her hand. To lead her away where they could talk and be alone.

 

Katniss stared at the skin of his palm, no doubt smoothed over from lotions and skin treatments to make him seem more genteel. For all of the fantasies she’d had of this moment, not one time had she thought she’d be hesitant to take his hand. But this was not her Peeta.

 

Fear and panic crushed her chest as she spun to face Effie. “What have you done?”

 

“Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Effie asked, ignoring her plea and giving her a tight smile that did nothing to ease Katniss’s frayed nerves. Effie’s slender fingers reached for a checkbook that had been tucked underneath one of her legs, and she clicked the back of a golden pen. It was probably real.

 

“I’m prepared to offer you a very large sum of money to give up this little charade about caring for my nephew and go on your merry way. I know you’ve been calling Dr. Aurelius daily, sometimes hourly,” Effie paused flipping through her checkbook to look up. Her gaze rested on Peeta, then drifted to Katniss.  

 

“Katniss, Peeta needs to be able to have some kind of a normal life after all he’s been through. There are… _expectations_ on him, you see. He needs to learn to run a corporation, mingle with socialites and businessmen, people of his own status. He needs to meet the right girl, fall in love, and make new heirs to take this over one day.” Katniss couldn’t blink or breathe as Effie’s words sank in.

 

“You understand, don’t you, Katniss? He needs to honor his father’s legacy. If you truly do care for him, you’ll take this money and walk away.” Effie hastily scrawled across the check, ripped it out and held it up for Katniss to take. “How does this sound to you?”

 

Katniss stared at the rectangular paper, unmoving as her brain processed what was happening.

 

“Take it. Tell me if this is agreeable.” Effie waved the check at her, but Katniss didn’t touch it. Instead, a natural scowl formed across her brow and she turned her attention to Peeta. She needed to know what he wanted. It was his life after all. He looked mostly unaffected by his aunt’s gesture, and his eyes only met hers when she said his name.

 

“What do you want?” Katniss said, her voice no louder than a whisper. She couldn’t bear the answer his impassive expression warned her was coming. She felt like a hollow shell of the person she once was, and with one word from him she would crumple to the floor with nothing left inside to keep her standing.  

 

“I,” he swallowed, clearly deliberating his choice of words. “I want to honor my father’s legacy.”

 

As Peeta regurgitated his aunt’s words, Katniss wished he would have let her drown. It would have been far easier for the ocean to crush her body than the anguish that was crushing her soul now.

 

“There, you see? Now, take the money, Katniss. You’ll be rich, and you won’t need to live off of Peeta.” Effie’s words were like a red flag waving, and she was the bull. Katniss turned to face her fully, chin up, shoulders back, eyes blazing.

 

“No,” she said firmly. “I’m not here for your money. I-- l...” Katniss clamped her lips closed. There was no way that this creature would hear her feelings for Peeta before she conveyed them to him herself, and hearing what Effie expected Peeta to do to have a ‘normal’ life left her with a bitter taste in her mouth. She’d rather die of heartache than accept anything from Effie Trinket. “I cared about Peeta long before I knew who he was, and I will not allow you to ruin what we had. If the island is all I have to remember the Peeta I knew, then I’ll find a way to move on. But I won’t do it with one tainted cent from you!” She yanked the check from Effie’s hand and tore it to pieces, scattering them across the Persian rug.

 

“Well! I never,” Effie huffed, looking mortified.

 

She couldn’t stay there anymore. The idea of remaining in the room with Effie and this new version of Peeta was unbearable. So Katniss ran. Without another look in Peeta’s direction, she bolted from the room, straight down the hall, bursting through the front doors and into the SUV.

 

“Take me home,” she barked at the driver, and he started the car and took off toward the city.

 

No matter how much she willed it, Katniss could not think of anything but Peeta, and during the excruciatingly long drive, she found herself rolling the pearl across her lips again. She realized over the last six months that she’d come to depend on the pearl as a way to keep him near. But by his own admission, that wasn’t what Peeta seemed to want anymore. All her fears about what could happen when he returned to his former life, could not touch the devastating reality of a life in which Peeta wanted nothing to do with her.

 

As the SUV pulled up to the curb in front of her apartment building, Katniss remembered Haymitch’s warning about the gem being similar to an engagement ring. She clutched it in her fist, realizing that the time had come to give it back. It was the right thing to do, and even if it ripped her heart in two, she didn’t have any right to keep a family heirloom, especially after all he’d been through.

 

The driver opened her door to let her out, and without thinking on it anymore - because if she did she might not go through with it - she slipped the pearl from her neck and dropped it in the driver’s hand. She didn’t look him in the eyes, nor did she have the strength to force a smile.

 

“Please give this back to Peeta. Tell him I said thank you for trusting me with something so precious.”

 

When Katniss made it to her apartment, she set all the locks in place and sank to the floor, where she finally allowed herself to fully give in to the despair.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, my pretties, I know this hurts. And my inbox is open, anon is on if you prefer secrecy. I don’t just wanna hear that I crushed your heart. I want you to give me all the gory details. Is it still beating? Did I force it through a meat grinder and it’s now a suitable consistency for taco Tuesday? Do you hate me? Trust me? Do NOT hold back on me. I’m prepared with my bullet proof vest. Tell me what you hated about it and what you loved about it.  
> 
> The good news is - I have decided this is not the last chapter. (Obviously) There was no way I could throw this amount of angst into it and wrap it up so quickly, and after only getting this far with 7,000 words I realized it needs another 5-6,000, and that would make a monster chapter. BUT - the next one will be the last. Then an epi. I need to thank my betas - burkygirl, xerxia31, and katnissdoesnotfollowback for their very generous help. This chapter was rearranged multiple times to get it right. I don’t know why I get so indecisive towards the end of a fic and start second guessing every word I’ve written, but I do, and I thank them wholeheartedly for the continued encouragement and hand-holding. I LITERALLY need to buy myself a pacifier to suck on when I write so I’ll stop whining to them all the time!


	10. Chapter 10

Katniss didn’t know how long she sat there, propped against the door. She was numb all over. There shouldn’t be any more tears to cry, yet they kept slipping down her cheeks. Her hand kept finding its way to her neck, searching for the pearl. Each time it grasped nothing but air, she sucked in a sharp breath, petrified she’d lost it, only to be crushed by the memory of the delicate chain piling into the driver's hand, the round, silver gem nestled in the middle. After months of grief and fear, the stab of Peeta’s rejection had left her emotions raw and bleeding. He’d chosen them over her. Worse than that, he’d been indifferent to her. The agony of that moment wasn’t a memory that was going away anytime soon. Maybe not ever. Her only hope was that it would lessen over time. 

Katniss drained the last of her energy to heft her small body off the floor and drag herself into her room. She stripped off her clothes in the bathroom and braced her hands on the cold sink. The person staring back at her in the mirror was unfamiliar. She’d never looked this bad. Her silver eyes were bright as the moon against all the red in them. Pink, puffy cheeks and nose. Strands of hair stuck to the sides of her face, dried into salty tracks the tears had left behind. 

She splashed ice water on her hot skin, gasping at the contrast in temperature. But she kept splashing, handfuls of water slapping her face so quickly she had no time to breathe in between. Her lungs burned, and her mind flashed back to the day she sank in the ocean. The day Peeta saved her. 

Her lungs inhaled of their own volition at the memory, suddenly needing air, and she sucked down water, coughing and choking violently. 

When it was over, she shut off the faucet and reached for a towel, burying her face in it’s warmth. Another glance in the mirror made her temper flare. She’d been reduced to a crying, self-loathing, mess of a person who’d been subjected to sporadic suicidal thoughts. All over a man who didn’t exist anymore. And who probably wasn’t even thinking about her. 

So, of course, he was all she could think about. 

_ But Dr. Aurelius said Peeta asked about her daily? _

Katniss needed answers. And the sooner she had them, the sooner she could start to put her life back together. 

As expected, her phone call to Dr. Aurelius went to voicemail and she hung up without leaving a message. Her shoulders slumped as she sat down on the edge of her bed, staring out the window that overlooked the bustling street below. 

Before the sun began to set, she was under the heavy covers of her bed, and all she could think was that they weren’t heavy enough. 

* * *

The phone on her bedside table rang at 6 a.m., startling Katniss awake. She had drifted into a short, fitful sleep, featuring another dream of Peeta with red eyes and fangs. It had been awful, but somehow the indifference she’d experienced from him the day before was more terrible than the mutt of her nightmares. 

She grabbed for the phone, answering with a raspy, morning voice. 

“Katniss, this is Dr. Aurelius returning your call.”

The drowsiness of early morning dissipated with the jolt of adrenaline the doctor’s voice sent through her. “Dr Aurelius?” 

“Yes. What can I do for you?” 

“Um, I, uh,” she stuttered, trying to unwrap herself from the tangle of covers that had served as a poor replacement for Peeta’s arms and legs. When her feet hit the floor, she found her voice as well, and her thoughts spilled out whether the doctor was ready for them or not. “What happened? I need to know. Peeta isn’t the same and I’m… wondering why. I spent weeks alone with him on that island. We took care of each other. There was something special between us.” Katniss stopped before she fell apart again. She could feel the tears ready to make their paths down her cheeks for the millionth time. 

Silence. A faint breath. Was it hers or his? Was she even breathing? Did he hang up? 

“Hello?” she asked. 

“I’m here,” he replied before clearing his throat, then dropping his voice to a whisper. “This isn’t really something I can discuss with you, Katniss. Peeta is my patient, but…” Katniss’s breath hitched. He sighed softly. “But I do believe you and Peeta had something special. That’s all I can say, and I shouldn’t even be saying that much.”

Had. The word felt like a knife to her heart, even though it was said with no malice whatsoever. Katniss realized the worst kind of pain was the kind you never saw coming. 

When the doctor stayed silent, she asked the question that had been on her mind the night before. “You said Peeta asked about me every day. When I saw him, he greeted me as if we’d only just met - a handshake and a few vague words. Not the reaction I expected after…” Katniss stopped herself from revealing what _after_ really meant. “Why would he do that?”

The doctor coughed lightly and a chair squeaked in the background. “It’s complicated.” 

She rolled her eyes at the obvious, unsatisfied with the doctor’s answer. “Can you elaborate?” She knew she was pushing it, but if she didn’t get some sort of answer she may not ever be able to process what happened. 

“I really shouldn’t,” he said, but Katniss sensed he just needed a small nudge and he would give in.

“Please?” she said in her smallest, most fragile voice, which wasn’t a far cry from how she felt anyway. 

“Alright, Katniss. You deserve some answers. At first,” he began, sighing heavily, “Peeta only asked for you. He was in a lot of pain.” He spoke slowly, softly, and Katniss hung onto every word, waiting for the one that would begin her healing. “He knew very few words, and he said your name repeatedly. When we had a session, over breakfast or lunch, or even when he was sedated in those first few weeks, your name would slip out. I knew you must have meant a great deal to him. However,” the doctor paused and Katniss was unsure whether he would go on. She held her breath, waiting, only letting it escape when he continued. “His aunt, Effie, was in on most of the sessions. They ate all their meals together, took tea together. She shaped and molded him into what she believes a proper Mellark should be.”

Of course she did, Katniss thought. 

“And a proper Mellark puts the family name first. Peeta is the only heir, the only one of her bloodline left, and Effie is not going to let him go without a fight, Katniss.”

Dr. Aurelius’s words hit harder than they would if she’d heard them yesterday, before she’d seen the evidence that his aunt had already won the battle. She wouldn’t have believed he could be turned from the sweet man she knew to the indifferent person who’d stood before her if she hadn’t witnessed it herself. Peeta was a _proper_ Mellark now; she had no doubts about that.

“I don’t think I can win that fight,” Katniss admitted for the first time to another person. She didn’t have Effie’s resources, nor did she have the one thing that could have changed the outcome long ago - time with Peeta. And, with Effie at the helm of his ‘rehabilitation’, she wasn’t likely to get it. Suddenly indignant over her loss, she asked, “How could you do that to him?”

“You know,” he exhaled a breath, “I’ve worked for Ms. Trinket since the family went missing all those years ago. It is likely the influence of his aunt has led him to make these choices. BUt they are choices that he believes are selfless and for the right reasons, Katniss. Would you have had me deny him the presence of his only living relative at a time when he was completely traumatized?” 

No, she wouldn’t have denied Peeta his family. Not in a million years. What everyone couldn’t seem to understand was that she was the missing piece of his family, and she couldn’t help but wonder just how differently things would have turned out if she had been allowed to be there for him like family should. Why bother to talk anymore? It was obvious the whole thing was over. She’d gotten a few answers, and while they didn’t come close to completing the picture, she knew this was where it was going to end. 

“Katniss?” he asked after she was silent for too long. When she didn’t respond he went on, his tone lost it’s professional edge, turning tender and grandfatherly. ““It wasn’t of his doing. Peeta is different now, yes, but that doesn’t mean he is unreachable. I want to apologize for the way you were brought to the Mellark home. I hope you can one day find it in you to forgive me for my part in that.”

She had no answer for him. What good would it do anyway? She didn’t believe Dr. Aurelius.  Though her heart wanted to believe otherwise, in her mind, Peeta was a lost cause, and the doctor had been a helping hand in Effie’s grand scheme. As politely as she could, Katniss thanked him and ended the call, no more satisfied with the shape of the puzzle than when she’d answered the phone. 

* * *

Time had seemed to move so slowly in the days that followed Katniss’s phone call with Dr. Aurelius. She worked, she showered, she slept. Well, tried to anyway. She ate a little, though her appetite still had a ways to go. But, all of it was done robotically. Katniss knew to regain any form of life she would have to push on. Force herself into daily routines and outings. Set herself to autopilot and never look back. 

The lack of sleep at night had her dead to the world, slumped in a sitting position on the couch mid-afternoon when her phone went off next to her. She grabbed for the it, wiping her mouth of the drool that had collected at the corners. The display showed her uncle’s name and number and she sighed heavily. This was his fourth call of the week, and each time Katniss had sent it to voicemail. She wasn’t quite ready to talk to him yet, but he seemed determined to speak with her, and she knew if she didn't answer, he might end up on her doorstep. 

“Yes?” she said coolly. She would forgive him eventually. He was family, after all, but she needed to get further than a week past the latest debacle with Peeta. It hadn’t been easy, and she’d still lost a lot sleep and tears, but she relied on the hope that time would heal her broken heart. 

“Sweetheart,” he said, and her heart softened a little at the endearment. It had been awhile since she’d seen him. The last time they’d been in the same room together was months ago, when she’d raked her nails down his cheek. 

“Hello, Haymitch. How have you been?” Hearing his gruff voice again after so long was more comforting than she expected, and Katniss found herself genuinely interested in how he’d been doing. 

“Not too bad. I miss my favorite niece.”

“Only niece,” she corrected. 

“No difference.” Katniss snorted softly at his answer. “So, how is my only niece these days?”

He hadn’t wasted any time getting to the point. Katniss had always preferred that about her uncle, but not today. Peeta’s cold dismissal of their relationship was still too fresh to talk about. She needed more time to move on before she could fully explain how she was, so she changed the subject.

“How’s Finnick?”  Katniss asked. 

“Good, good. He’s still on the island,  They’ve got the plumbing and electrical done, roads are cleared, foundation poured. The third pool is being dug out this week, beaches are being cleaned and prepped for vacationers. They’re booked solid for the first four months already.”

“That’s… really impressive,” she replied, somewhat emotionally, regretting her change in topic after she realized it didn’t divert her thoughts from Peeta. If anything, it made her more sad, thinking of Peeta’s beloved island getting a prim and proper makeover for the upper class, just as he had. And, in Katniss’s opinion, not for the better. Why couldn’t humanity leave well enough alone? Why did improvements always have to be made to things that weren’t messed up in the first place?

“Listen, Katniss,” Haymitch said after a few beats of silence, “I get that you don’t want to talk about Peeta. I just called to tell you he’s on The Flickerman Show tonight. Thought you might want to tune in and see for yourself… how he is.”

“Oh,” Katniss whispered as uneasiness shot through her. It’s the first she’s heard of Peeta from any outside source, and she’d trolled the internet for months after the incident looking for news. Effie probably paid dearly to keep a lid on the biggest news since the moon landing until she was ready for it to be known.

Katniss rarely watched television, though, and had Haymitch not called her she may never have known. She wasn’t sure she could stomach watching it. Caesar Flickerman was garish to look at sometimes, but he’d been a host for over forty years, and his was the number one talk show on any network. Only the most well-known of the well-known were asked to be guests, and so it made sense that Effie would have arranged Peeta’s coming out to the world on the most watched television show ever. 

“I just thought you’d want to see him. How he’s doing since... you know.” Yeah, she knew. She couldn’t seem to forget. Little did he know she had already seen it for herself. 

“Thank you, Haymitch, I’ll try not to miss it,” she answered, unsure if she would have the nerve to tune in. 

A little later, Katniss laid on top of her bed. Only a sliver of sun was left peeking over the horizon, casting a soft orange hue across the far wall. She remembered sitting on the cliff overlooking the ocean as she taught Peeta the word sunset. She sighed deeply, trying to rid herself of the feeling of an elephant crushing her chest, and tapped the screen on her phone to check the time. It seemed she’d done it every sixty seconds since she’d hung up with her uncle, as she debated whether or not to watch The Flickerman Show. The live show was set to air in four minutes, and panic was setting in. She knew watching it would cut her deeply, but no matter how hard she tried to convince herself she didn’t want to watch it, she knew her curiosity would win out and she’d end up on the couch, eyes glued to the television.

So, she decided to stop lying to herself and trudged into the living room, flipping on the TV and setting it to the channel she knew carried the show. She gripped the remote tightly, reassuring herself that she could turn it off the second it got to be too much. 

Waiting through the opening credits and the monologue was as excruciating to Katniss’s eyesight as it was to her pulse. Caesar wore a midnight blue suit dotted with a thousand tiny light bulbs that twinkled like stars, and his skin was pale under white makeup that made the dark blue coloring of his hair, lips and eyes more pronounced. He told a few jokes to warm up the crowd, and then the station took a quick commercial break. It seemed like forever until Caesar was ready for his first interview of the night.

Suddenly, the blue-haired host turned serious, slumping a little as he sat, propping his chin in his hand dramatically. He looked like the statue of The Thinker. “I want to tell you a story,” he began, looking around the room. The close up of the camera showed his eyes moving. He seemed to stare at each audience member individually, drawing them into his tale. “A story about a loving family, who, twenty years ago, embarked on a trip around the world.” He paused to give a poignant look into the camera, then stood and began a slow pace around the stage. 

“A doting father and a loving mother packed up their two children and set sail on a cold January day in 1995.” A picture flashed across the television of a family of four, all smiling, posed on the deck of a beautiful boat. The ocean was behind them, the sun shining down on their blonde heads. She knew who they were. They were identical to the family photos in the book of Peeta’s she’d brought back. “Three weeks into the trip, a tragic turn of events unfolded. Here to tell us about that fateful day is the only surviving member of the family.” The crowd gasped and Caesar waited for the murmurs to die down before finishing his introduction.

“Please help me welcome our first guest, lost to the world so long ago, and recently found on a deserted island after twenty, loooooong years.”  He pulled a pitiful face as he acknowledged the truth out loud to his audience. “Mr. Peeta Mellark, Everyone!”

The crowd clapped politely when Peeta emerged from behind a thick, black curtain, strikingly handsome in a black suit. He waved demurely to the audience, then shook Caesar’s hand and smiled as if they were old friends. He looked so well-adjusted to this new life already, and if Katniss’s heart hadn’t already been crushed, seeing him so happy without her would have done it. 

They two men got comfortable in gleaming-white, egg-shaped chairs, and Peeta adjusted the buttons on his suit jacket as he sat back. The camera focused just on him, and Katniss zeroed in on the unmistakable blue of his eyes - the color she loved most in the world. 

Katniss was in a daze as the interview began, but she could tell Peeta had the full attention of the audience from the get-go. They laughed with him about the perils of having to wear dress shoes or learning to use a shower, when he’d been so used to a dip in the river. For the first week, he’d accidentally washed his hair with shaving cream, and cut himself trying to use a razor. “And the food,” he added.

“What about the food?” Caesar asked. 

“There’s so much of it,” Peeta answered. “I was too upset to eat the first week, with all the changes,” Caesar nodded and gave a few mhmm’s as Peeta explained, “so when my appetite returned I was so starved, I ate everything that was put in front of me. I think I lost every meal that went down for a week just getting used to it all. I still have a hard time with beef.”

They spoke for a few more minutes about the differences between Peeta’s former life and his new one before they moved on. 

“So, Peeta,” Caesar said in a much more serious tone, and Katniss stopped breathing for a moment, “it can’t have been easy to be on a deserted island for twenty one years. Tell us what that was like?”

Peeta took a deep breath and his cheeks puffed when he blew it out. “You’re right, Caesar, it wasn’t easy. It was scary at first, but really, it was lonely more than anything.” To that he received a collective ‘awwwww’ from the crowd. Caesar’s hand was over his heart, and his mouth gaped in horror as Peeta relayed the events that had stranded him on the island. Caesar looked genuinely distressed at the story. It was a horrifying tale that hadn’t left a dry eye in the room, and probably all of those watching from the comfort of their homes were affected the same way. Katniss’s eyes were certainly red-rimmed and wet from emotion. But that was nothing new these days. 

“What did you do to survive?” Caesar asked after delicately dabbing at his eyes with a tissue, careful not to smudge his makeup. 

“I was very fortunate that my father enrolled me in Cub Scouts when I was six. Just the little bit of information I learned in that first year helped save my life. I knew to find fresh water first, and then look for shelter. I wasn’t very good at starting fires,” he laughed weakly, and Katniss noted the ease with which he spoke, the fluidity of the language that poured from his tongue. If she hadn’t found him months ago herself, she probably wouldn’t have believed he’d learned an entire language so quickly. “But thankfully it was a tropical climate, so I didn’t need it for warmth. I climbed trees to reach things like bananas and pineapples, and learned early on to stay away from the wild monkeys.” 

Caesar’s eyes widened and he sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. 

Peeta nodded his head gravely at the host’s unspoken question. “Wild monkeys with razor sharp claws and fangs. And very, very territorial. Not an animal you want to get into a fight with.”

“Were you ever hurt by them?” Caesar asked. 

Peeta blinked slowly and looked down, as if fighting back a memory. “Yes. Once.” He rubbed his hands together thoughtfully, but said nothing else, and in the stretch of silence Katniss was reminded of the gash to Peeta’s stomach and how she’d brought him back to her tent and stitched him up. Was he remembering that, too?

“Tell us about the events leading up to your rescue,” Caesar prompted his guest. Peeta sighed again, and Katniss knew this was hard for him to talk about. She’d been there. Watched the horror unfold, saw how the fear changed his entire demeanor.

“Well, the island was bought by Odair and Son, and shortly after the purchase, they came to the island. I watched them for a few weeks. Finally had some interaction with one of them.” Peeta was being vague, and Katniss wondered if he’d been coached that way or if he was having a hard time talking about the specifics. Mainly her. She should feel grateful not to be mentioned on a nationally televised show, but instead it stung. 

“I got to know them,” he continued, blowing out another breath, “and... after a few weeks a second crew came in. There was a, uh, scuffle one night. It was dark. None of the new guys were aware of me.”

“They didn’t know about you?” Caesar cut in.

Peeta shook his head. “No, by that point, the first crew had figured out who I was, and wanted to protect me from anyone that might try to use my identity to their advantage.” 

Caesar nodded in understanding and asked Peeta to continue. “Anyway, one of them was holding a knife that night, and I think my presence must have scared him. Long story short, he lashed out and cut a gash across my thigh.” 

“Oooooo,” Caesar winced. 

“It hurt like hell. I passed out for a bit, between the pain and loss of blood, and the next thing I knew I was being carted off a ship in the middle of the Indian Ocean onto a helicopter.” Peeta raised his hands and shrugged, as if to say that’s the end of the story, then dropped them into his lap.

“That’s quite an amazing story. We’ll get into a little more detail in a later segment, but right now I want to know something a bit more personal.” Caesar leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, taking on a more friendly pose. “The billion dollar question every young lady is dying to have answered… do you have a girlfriend?” Caesar’s question pulled Katniss’s heart into her throat and cut off her airway.

Peeta glanced up at Caesar in hesitation, then gave his head a shake. A few females in the crowd made swooning noises, and jealousy reared its ugly, green head inside Katniss. The reality of Peeta being with someone other than her was hitting home now, and she had no idea how she was going to handle it.

“Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what’s her name?” Caesar pressed for the information like any good interviewer would do. 

“Well,” Peeta sighed and his shoulders sagged, “there is this one girl.” Katniss’s hearing was sharp as she focused on Peeta’s answer, and she discerned more than a couple of disappointed sighs from the crowd. 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Caesar said, clapping excitedly. “Give us the details. Are you two together? Is she a childhood friend? A nurse who took care of you when you were state side, perhaps?” 

Peeta shook his head. “No. No, it’s… I met her somewhat recently, but it’s a little  complicated.” Katniss wondered if he was talking about her, or someone else. Had he met a girl and already moved on? It would explain the indifference she’d received at the Mellark mansion. 

“She have another fellow?” Caesar pried, switching his actions and tone seamlessly from elated to concerned. Katniss watched as Peeta grimaced. Her heart was still in her throat, but it was tying itself up in knots as she waited for him to answer. 

“I-I don’t know. I don’t think so.” It sounded more like a question, something he hadn’t thought about until now. Peeta’s foot bounced subtly a few times before shifting in his seat.

“Do you love her?” Caesar asked boldly. The crowd was completely quiet, holding their breaths for the answer, and Katniss was right there with them, not that she’d been breathing much since the interview started anyway. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Peeta finally said softly into the tense silence, lifting his eyes to Caesar’s. “It’s not going to work out.”

Effie obviously didn’t approve of this girl, either, Katniss thought, somewhat relieved. She folded her arms across her chest and stuffed her hands under her arms to stop them from shaking with nerves. 

“Hmm,” Caesar said thoughtfully, tapping his chin. Then he reached over and patted Peeta on the knee. “Well, that is unfortunate for her. You’re a catch, Peeta. Whoever she is, she could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve you. You’ll make some lucky lady very, very happy.”

Caesar pulled his hand back and looked directly into the camera, announcing a break from the sponsor, and the show cut to a commercial. Katniss was perfectly still, but her heart fluttered and then took on the speed of a hummingbird’s wings as she replayed the conversation. It was hard to get past the sucker punch Caesar had given her at the end. If it were her choice, she’d be that lucky lady. But it wasn’t up to her. 

Peeta hadn’t admitted it was her, but he hadn’t denied it, either. He’d dismissed whomever it was by simply saying that it couldn’t work. If he was talking about her, Katniss had witnessed their differences with her own eyes. The lifestyle he was born into surpassed anything she’d ever known. But it hadn’t felt as though it was her Peeta saying any of it. It was like he’d been fed a line and repeated it dutifully. 

As Katniss thought more, she decided it was unfair that she had to live in a world where Peeta Mellark existed; a man that she wanted with her entire being, and couldn’t see herself _un_ wanting. A man to whom she felt a connection like nothing she’d ever experienced, but he was so far out of her reach he may as well have been in another galaxy.

Katniss needed a break, but she didn’t want to turn the TV off, so she hid in the bathroom, locking the door to put some space between herself and TV Peeta. She rolled the thoughts around in her head, trying to connect all the dots, and at the same time trying to keep her battered heart from taking any more hits than it already had. It was pummeled beyond recognition at this point. It couldn’t take even one more lash. 

Instead of watching any of it, she sat, holed up in her tiny bathroom, thoughts running a mile a minute. She could just make out the audience’s applause when the show resumed. Could hear Caesar’s and Peeta’s muffled voices as they spoke. Cheers erupted a little later, and she assumed the show had ended. But she wasn’t ready to face reality, so she shed her clothes and climbed into the shower, and stayed there until the water ran as cold as her reception at the Mellark mansion a week ago. 

Katniss flipped her hair upside down and toweled it off, stopping mid-rub when she thought she heard her name, distant and muffled. Once. Twice. She flipped her hair back and scrambled to get dressed in the clothes laying on the floor. 

When she heard it a third time, she opened the bathroom door and stuck her head out. A fourth time sounded like it was coming from four floors down, on the street. She crossed the bedroom quickly and shoved the window up, her heart thumping wildly in her chest as she climbed out onto the fire escape. 

“Katniss!”  

She grabbed the metal railing and leaned over so her eyes could see the evidence of what the rest of her already knew; that Peeta was on the street in front of her apartment building, calling for her. Even when her eyes landed on him she could hardly believe it. 

It was dark out, and she took in his disheveled appearance under the dingy lighting of the street lamps. He must have come straight from The Flickerman Show. He was half-dressed now, in the same black suit pants, sans the jacket, and his tie hung limp around his neck as if it had been too hard to speak or breathe or live with the silk scrap choking him, and God, Katniss knew exactly what that felt like. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, only half of it still tucked into his pants, sleeves haphazardly rolled up to the elbow, and his hair was standing on end. Definitely not how he looked an hour ago on the television. 

“Peeta?” Katniss answered, and his head snapped in her direction. She could see the moment he decided not to use the front door, and the pieces of her smashed heart sprang to life as he used the skills he'd learned from the jungle to reach the drop down ladder of the fire escape, jumping higher than any person should be able to, to pull it down and hoist himself up. She watched through the metal slats, breathing quick and pulse racing, as he climbed with his arms until his legs found the bottom rung. Then, he swung himself over the railing of the second floor landing, and without any care for taking the easy route, scrambled the rest of the way up to her fourth floor apartment, all the while his eyes finding hers through the breaks in the landings. In that moment, she saw her Peeta again.

Then he was right there, eyes locked in a stare that made Katniss feel every bit of fear that his face belied. Nothing else existed in that moment. Not the stars overhead, not the street and cars below. Not the small crowd that had gathered to watch with their cell phones out, no doubt posting the superhuman display to social media. 

Peeta started to reach for her, but his arms fell back to his sides as he seemed to change his mind. Her heart felt like it was expanding and contracting in time with her heaving lungs. He whispered her name as though he didn't believe she was standing in front of him. She knew the feeling, except she couldn't use her voice right then if she tried, and she blinked back the evidence of emotion threatening to spill over. How Katniss had enough tears left at this point to threaten any kind of spillage, she had no clue. _Keep it together_ , she begged herself. 

Several beats of silence went by as he searched her face. Then, his eyes sparked as he remembered something, and he reached inside his pocket, pulling out the pearl necklace. “This is yours.” 

Katniss looked down at the dark silver jewel in the palm of his hand. It took her a moment to deny him, it had been hers for a little while after all, but she shook her head slowly, and with every sway of her braid, she wished she were nodding. “It belonged to your mother. You should keep this, Peeta,” she said wistfully, taking his hand in one of hers. The simple touch was excruciating. 

With the other hand, she closed his fingers gently around the pearl. When she finally looked him in the eyes again, she didn’t need to wonder anymore if her heart was the only broken one. She could see his torment mirrored her own. 

“I was on The Flickerman Show tonight, and... after it was over, Effie was backstage waiting for me. She was wearing this,” he told her, raising his fisted hand up for emphasis. “I just lost it. It doesn’t belong to her, Katniss. I gave it to _you_.” 

When she still didn’t pluck it from his hand, Peeta dropped his arm to his side. “What do we do now?” he asked. 

Katniss had no idea how to answer that question. He probably wanted to hear the exact things she wanted to say to him. Things she shouldn’t say to him. 

That the last six months had been hell without him. 

That she wasn’t able to see a future without him in it. 

That every minute, of every day, she wished she could relive those six weeks of bliss on the island. 

That she loved him. 

But admitting all of that out loud wouldn’t be fair to either of them. So she answered with the words she thought would hurt the least. “I guess we try to forget.” She was wrong. It hurt so much more saying those words, but she couldn’t take them back now. 

Katniss only meant to glance at his face. To gauge any relief he might feel, and then quickly look away, his gaze pinned her in place until she couldn’t move at all. He was the fisherman and she was the catch of the day. She was fooling herself if she thought she could be anything other than hooked. 

“I don't want to forget,” Peeta whispered. 

It all happened in slow motion; the step he took to erase the distance between them, the lifting of his hands, his warm palms settling on her cheeks. Katniss could feel the chain he still held, cool against her skin, and she felt more than just their physical distance dissipating. 

Her eyes fluttered closed when he touched his forehead to hers, his thumbs trailing over her 

skin, so slowly he must have thought the contact would scare her off. It did exactly the opposite. She’d thought of this for so long, and then she’d mourned the belief that it would never happen. To have it happen now was overwhelming. She just wanted to _feel_. Every touch of his skin to hers, every soft breath that skimmed her cheeks, every tender caress was coaxing her back from the depths of despair. This was her Peeta. 

And then he spoke so softly she almost didn’t hear it, as if it was meant only for him. “Katniss Peeta always.” And that was enough for her. Enough to eradicate the doubt that had made its home inside her heart, and without any hesitation she tilted her chin up and pressed their lips together for the first time in months. Peeta grunted softly and a sweet ache raced through her veins, pouring liquid joy into her crushed and battered heart until it was overflowing. Warmth radiated from where they touched, through her core, to her limbs, bursting into the air around them from her fingertips and toes. It lit her up and made her feel alive again. Katniss realized in that moment how dead she’d been inside. 

When his tongue swept across her lower lip, her knees almost gave out and she grabbed his wrists, needing something to hold on to. His hands moved to her shoulders and down her back, pulling her even closer as he fused his mouth over hers. He was as desperate as she was for the contact, and she clutched at his rumpled shirt for fear this was all a dream; that she would open her eyes and he would be ripped away from her again; or worse, that he would walk away on his own. She couldn't take it if he did. 

The atmosphere surrounding them was filled with breathy sighs and throaty, contented noises. Peeta pulled back some, but she chased his lips, not wanting the kiss to end, and he let her have control. That was dangerous, she thought, smiling to herself for the first time in forever. She may never separate herself from his mouth again. 

A commotion on the street below finally caught their attention, and they reluctantly broke apart to look over the railing. At least fifty cell phones were trained in their direction, and more people were walking up the street in both directions, phones at the ready. 

“Let’s go inside,” Katniss said, quickly realizing their audience was growing, and pulled Peeta the short distance to the window. She climbed in first, then closed the pane and tightened the blinds as soon as he was standing in her room. 

Now that they were standing there, apart, really looking at each other for the first time in a long time, Katniss wasn’t sure what to do. When she was kissing him, she felt like it was him. But now, she felt like she wasn’t certain who he was. It didn’t seem appropriate to kiss him, or drag him to the bed. Luckily, he started the conversation she needed to have with him. 

“Why didn’t you come to me?” he asked. It was like a punch straight to her midsection.

“I didn’t know where you were. I probably called Dr. Aurelius a hundred times.” Her voice caught, and she covered her eyes with her hands. The tears were never far and they were doing their best to see the light of day. She felt exhausted, drained, and she couldn’t have held them back anymore if someone was holding a gun to her head. “Every time he said--” she sniffed, “he said he couldn’t talk to me about you. A-a-and,” she stuttered through a sob, “then Effie sent him to bring me to you, but really it was just to let me know I wasn’t a part of your life anymore.” 

Katniss felt utterly helpless. She couldn’t even look at Peeta, let alone finish her answer. But she didn’t have to worry, she realized, as Peeta gently pried her hands away from her face and tucked them into his chest. He held her close and rubbed comforting circles into her back while she cried. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. 

Katniss lifted her puffy eyes to his face, beautiful even blurred through her tears, like a living piece of impressionist artwork. “What are you sorry for?” 

“For what I said at Effie’s,” he sighed and gave her a quick kiss on her temple, then sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her to sit next to him. Only their thighs touched. “I thought you left me. I bought into Effie’s story about how you were just a gold digger. I fought her for a while, but the longer time went on and you didn’t show up, I started to think maybe she was right. That what we had was only special to me.”

Katniss’s heart splintered when she thought of Peeta, pining for her, the same as she was for him, all the while thinking she didn’t care. 

“She said she would prove it to me, and shortly after she brought you to the house. I knew I should have said something when you tore up the check, Katniss. I was an idiot. I was blinded by the hurt of you staying away, and I let it take over.” Katniss quietly watched him bounce his leg and shift, same as he’d done when Caesar asked if he had a girl.

“For months Effie kept telling me how grateful she was, how grateful the world would be, having a Mellark to hand the empire to when she was finished. That I owed it to my father to take the path he paved for me, continue what my grandfather built and passed on. She drilled into me every day that it was my destiny, and I didn’t want to disappoint my family legacy.” He looked pained as he spoke, and his voice wavered. “The first year I was on the island, I missed my family so badly. I wracked my brain over and over, trying to think of what I’d done to deserve my fate. To be the only one that survived. I swore to them, and myself, if I was ever rescued I would do whatever it took to make sure their memories were honored. At the time, I had no idea that would mean giving you up.

“I shouldn’t have let you go.” He slumped his shoulders and turned his head to look at her. “After you marched out of the room that day, it was like the haze of doubt began to lift, but by the time I could process it all, you were gone. I couldn’t come after you because I’m basically a prisoner.” He laughed bitterly. “I only thought I was a prisoner on the island. Effie controls all my comings and goings, knows everything I do. I basically yanked the pearl off her neck and ran. I  persuaded the driver to bring me wherever he last dropped you off, and then I just started yelling your name like a maniac. I didn’t know what else to do.”

He was so earnest in his confession, and she had no reason to doubt him. He’d laid it all out there. Every ugly detail of their time apart was uncovered, fitting together all the elusive pieces until Katniss had a clear picture. But, before she could allow herself to get excited about any of what he’d confessed, she needed to know what his plans for the future were. “What do you want for yourself, Peeta?” 

He took a deep breath, and everything was agonizingly still around them until he answered.  “Part of me wants to honor my father,” he said simply staring down at their feet, his shod and hers bare. Katniss’s stomach dropped. “But a larger part of me wants to go back to the island and live out my days there. No technology, no starched suits and tight ties.” He grabbed at the offending garment and jerked at it, releasing it the rest of the way, and leaned his head on her shoulder. “I’m so tired, Katniss. I don’t want to struggle with this life.” 

Katniss reached for his hand, twining their fingers. She couldn’t believe she had him next to her again. She’d given up all hope. “There’s no way to know exactly what your father wanted for you, Peeta. And I suspect everything Effie told you reflects what she wants for you.” Katniss stopped short of telling Peeta that everything his aunt did was selfishly motivated. He needed to make his own decisions. Not be swayed by her opinions. That would make her no better than Effie Trinket. “Most parents want their children to be happy. What makes you happy?”

Peeta propped his chin on her shoulder and stared at her, his pleading blue eyes just centimeters away. “You.” Katniss’s heart soared at the simple word, but it was the way he looked at her, the admiration and longing as acute as her own, that made it whole again. 

“What are you saying?” she asked softly, her gaze flitting from his eyes to his lips and back. She could guess, but now wasn’t the time to assume. She needed to know.

He sat up, shifted a knee up onto the bed and turned into her, taking her face in his hands. The expression he wore was so sincere Katniss would have believed he’d just returned from Mars if that’s what he chose to tell her. 

“I’m saying I don’t want to be without you anymore. I need you, Katniss. Always.” It was exactly what she wanted to hear him say. He watched her, waiting patiently for her to find her voice.

He’d made her speechless, but not because she didn’t have something to say. There was so much inside of her she wanted to tell him. Her heart had gone from deflated to bursting in the course of half an hour. But, as she looked at him, she settled for simple, because the desire she found in his eyes matched the need deep inside her. “I need you, too, Peeta. So much.” 

His hands drifted to her neck, and the feel of the cool chain across her skin didn’t surprise her in the least. Her Peeta had always let her know his intentions with action instead of words. When he pulled her close to fasten it around her, where it belonged, she knew. After months of being adrift, lost in a sea of turbulent thoughts and dispirited living, she’d finally been found. 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Except for the epilogue, which is all HEA, this fic is complete. This chapter, heck this entire story, would not have been possible without six very important people! Mega-aulover - this wouldn’t exist without you. No other way to say it. I never even saw the prompt you posted on Javis’ challenge until you asked if I would write it. I wonder what it would have looked like if you had asked someone else? Loving-mellark, who made three banners for this story, and blew me away with every one of them. She’s a saint, and a keeper! Burkygirl, xerxia31, and katnissdoesnotfollowback, who read all of the 60K insecure words I typed out. My betas are an incredible sounding board when I need it, and every reader of this fic owes them a thank you! They kept me on task, questioned my direction at times, offered ideas, and reminded me of loose ends to tie up. They even checked reviews on the story to make sure they were on target as well. (No, you cannot have them.) 
> 
> The sixth person I want to thank is more a body of people, kind of like the Aggie’s twelfth man - YOU! With each review and ask, you made me want to write more and better. I don’t write for myself. I don’t write because I need to get what’s in my head out. I can live there without ever having to let anyone in. It’s like Disneyland in there - always a fun ride. I write because people want to read. If there were no readers, I would keep it in. Whatever that sounds like, I’m just being honest. I don’t cook unless someone besides me is going to eat, and the same applies to my writing. Without the encouragement, it might have been abandoned. Don’t ever forget that just because you like something, that doesn’t mean the person who created it knows that. You have to let them know, and I’ve been so very grateful every time someone has told me what this fic means to them. I love the interaction! 
> 
> After the epilogue, I will be wrapping up The Effect You Have On Me, and two short stories I’ve got started. My goal for 2017 is to write a few originals, (this is why you can’t have my betas ;)), I’ve been saving for when I’m ready, and I think that time has come. I’m not leaving the fandom! Everlark and the virtual friends I’ve made are a big part of my last 3 years. I just need to quit putting off creating my own characters. 
> 
> As always, I’d love to know what you think of this chapter! Did it answer your questions? Was it satisfying after all the angst and separation? Pbg


	11. Chapter 11

 

Peeta sat in the corner of the room, listening to Katniss breathe while she slept. The windows were open and the curtains billowed with the breeze while the moonlight cast a milky glow onto her olive skin. He was up early, unable to sleep. It was so every year at this time. His mind knew the calendar like clockwork and the anniversary of being stranded on the island sent him spiraling into the past, where he relived the dark and stormy night on the ocean, and the loss of his family.

 

He pulled on his khaki shorts, not unlike the ones he’d once loathed, and slipped out into the early morning. The sounds of night quieted around him as his tread met the packed dirt. The ground was moist under his bare feet, and clung to his heels and toes. He loved the feel of it. Something familiar to keep him grounded on nights like these, when he felt imprisoned by the memories.

 

Soon, he was standing in front of a dark opening, breathing in the scent of jungle. A scent that, six years ago, he would have given anything to be rid of.

 

Sometimes it was hard for Peeta to believe he was back here, on the very island he’d dreamed of being rescued from. The same island where he’d lost everything in his past and found all he wanted for his future. There was a time he thought he would die on that island. Alone. But fate had turned a compassionate eye on him and intervened, sending Katniss to his rescue.

 

He moved inside and lit a fire in the ring of stones that still waited in the middle of the his former home. They had changed nothing since being back. As he read his life’s story on those walls, he thought about his parents, long gone. Their memory had faded in his mind over time, but the loss became a sharper pain in his heart with each passing year. He missed them. He mourned for his brother, who would have been 28 this year, his life cut short when he’d only begun to live. Peeta wondered what their relationship would have been like had they survived. Fast forward to the future, and had they survived, he wouldn’t have Katniss.

 

Or Willow. Beautiful, sweet Willow. Dark hair and skin like her mother. Blue eyes deeper than the ocean.

 

Oh, how his thoughts could turn dark in seconds. He didn’t have to choose, though. Fate had done that for him, and, while he would always miss his family, he had his own now. What terrified him most these days was the possibility of his children being left without a father, as he had been. It was a personal hell he knew all too well, and he wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.

 

“I thought I’d find you here.” Katniss’s voice permeated the cave, interrupting his ruminations. He turned to look at her and instantly his morning brightened. She was always a vision, like the rise of the sun. A natural beauty. He’d been a goner since the day she stepped onto the island five and a half years ago, and he was thankful she never gave up on him.

 

After the return to the real world, their time apart had nearly done him in. He’d been a wreck inside. The day she turned up in Effie’s house, all he’d wanted to do was hold onto her day and night. But his aunt had taught him to question everything, including Katniss, and he foolishly listened. He was thankful every day of his life that Katniss had taken him back.

 

Peeta was furious after finding Effie waiting in the wings with the pearl around her neck the night of the Flickerman Show. It was the spark that incinerated any doubt that he’d done the wrong thing where Katniss was concerned. The spark that brought them back together, back to the island. Back to life.

 

“Come here,” Peeta beckoned his wife, and when she reached him he pulled her back against his chest. He nudged her braid over her shoulder and kissed her neck. His hands roamed her soft belly, still too smooth to acknowledge the life inside of it. But he knew. And he couldn’t touch her enough these days. “You’re up early. Is Annie with Willow?”

 

Katniss rested the back of her head on Peeta’s shoulder, twining her fingers through his. “Yes. And she knows where to find us if she needs us.”

 

Annie was their friend. She’d moved from the mainland to take a position as a teacher in the new school. The village that sprang up to support the resort had grown quickly with a down economy in South Africa. A lot of families were needing work these days, and families meant children. Peeta had volunteered himself to teach art at the school, and all the kids knew him as Jungle Pete. As soon as he met Annie, he knew Katniss would take to her sweet personality. She had, and when Annie had admitted she was homeless and had been sleeping nights at the school, Katniss had taken her in immediately.

 

They would lose her soon, though, since Finnick Odair had laid eyes on her and become smitten. He spent more time on the island than he’d ever planned, almost making the penthouse suite of the grand hotel his permanent home just to be near her. Annie hadn’t known how to take Finnick’s advances at first. He’d been about as subtle with his feelings as an atomic bomb, but she soon grew used to him and developed feelings of her own. They’d be married before his and Katniss’s baby was born. Another sign that life would go on, same as the jungle flowers that bloomed each morn only to retreat during the night.

 

“Thank you,” Peeta said with relief, returning his lips to her warm skin. He was overly protective of his curious daughter, but Katniss never faulted him for it. She backed him at every point, understanding exactly where he was coming from. If they disagreed, she spoke to him privately, laying out any reasons and other options for him to consider. They were the best kind of team, and he couldn’t imagine sharing his life with anyone else.

 

He nibbled at the skin just under her ear, a place he knew she loved his attention, and the breathy sigh that left her, along with her rounded ass pressed into his morning rise, was quickly turning him on. She blew out a deeper sigh and Peeta pulled back, sensing something was off.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Just hot,” she said, using one hand to fan herself. When Katniss was pregnant with Willow, they spent a lot of time under the cool spray of the shower, and rubbing ice cubes over her pulse points. It seemed likely it would be the same this time, and Peeta knew just the place to cool her off.

 

“Let’s go for a dip,” he suggested, guiding her out of the cave and down the trail.

 

When they reached the part of the stream that was deep enough to bring Katniss relief, Peeta let go of her hand long enough to strip away his shorts. Then he reached for Katniss’s nightdress, pinching the hem between his fingertips and slipping it over her head. He steered her into the water carefully, sidestepping the larger rocks that pebbled the bottom, and pulled her flush against him when they were finally submerged.

 

“Are you okay?” Katniss asked him as Peeta placed her arms around his neck. The water was moving faster than usual from the rains they’d received, and he wanted to be sure she was anchored to something. His wife was a good swimmer, but flashes of fishing her out of the ocean were never far from his mind, and he never wanted to be put in the position of rescuer  again.

 

He hadn’t known much about her back when he’d plucked her from the sea, other than she was beautiful and curious. But it had terrified him watching her swim too far into the currents he knew were unrelenting and deadly. He’d been caught in them once himself. Thankfully, he managed to get back to shore on the opposite side of the island after resting on his back when he grew tired of swimming. He hadn’t wasted a second thinking of his own life as he watched Katniss make the same mistake that day. He shuddered thinking about what could have happened.

 

Her fingertips raking down his back brought him to the present. “I am now,” he answered, smoothing his palms down her backside. When he reached the tops of her legs, he hauled her upwards and tugged her legs apart, encouraging her to wrap them around his hips. The water shifted around them, softly babbling downstream, lapping at the big boulders that had lodged themselves in the middle of it long ago. Birds squawked and monkeys howled in the distance, but Peeta didn’t hear any of it. His hands were on a mission, sliding up Katniss’s hips, gliding upwards until they cupped her breasts. He could tell by the fit of them in his palms they were readying for the new baby; weightless in the water, but filling his hands.

 

Katniss laid her cheek on his shoulder, and he circled the taut peaks of her breasts with his thumbs. She squeezed her legs around him in response, rubbing her center against him, and he suddenly needed his mouth on her. He moved his hands back underneath her and lifted her out of the water until her soft mounds were exposed to the air. Then he wrapped his lips around one of her wet nipples and sucked on her while his fingers massaged the pliant flesh of her ass.

 

She moaned and writhed against him, weaving her fingers into the hair he’d allowed to grow out again since returning to the island. The way she gyrated in his hands, searching for more, made him as hard as the rocks dividing the waters downstream. Eager to give Katniss what she wanted, he slipped one finger between her folds as he switched to suckle the other breast. She cried out and the sounds of life around them stilled.

 

He rubbed her with expert precision, felt the pleasure he was giving her all the way to his toes that curled into the mud. Katniss was the only woman he’d studied, the only one he ever cared to know how to make feel deprived and satisfied in the span of five minutes. Peeta knew her body better than she did. He loved it when she panted his name, reveled in the way it rolled off her tongue like the highest praise and deepest need, as it did now.

 

After her body finally shuddered in his arms with her release, she sagged against him. The steady flow of the stream around them kept their naked chests pressed together. He brought his hands from the water, pushing a few strands of damp hair from her face. The morning sun was breaking through the treetops, sending streams of golden light shooting into the water around them, glinting off his ring, and her hazy eyes. He kissed his wife reverently.

 

“I need you now, Peeta,” Katniss groaned through the languid kiss. She reached between them and took hold of his erection, positioning it at her entrance. He grunted at the contact, his swollen head moving through her softness until they were perfectly aligned. He needed her too. He pulled her hips into his, the mix of the water and her tightness making it difficult to sheath himself in one thrust.

 

Peeta stilled once he’d buried himself. He needed more stability to take her like he knew she wanted, so he maneuvered them to the closest shore. He let his feet feel the way out of the water, unable to tear his eyes away from Katniss. Everything about his wife was succulent. From the slope of her slender neck, to the swell of her breasts. The curve of her waist, which would soon grow with his own flesh and blood, and the flare of her hips that would bring their child into the world. She was his heart and soul. Had been since he’d first laid eyes on her, his mate. The half that made him whole again. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

 

When he reached land, he fell to his knees and lowered Katniss to the ground, the two of them still joined. Water dripped from the ends of his hair onto her chest, and he was suddenly dying of thirst. He sucked every droplet from her skin as he began to move in and out of her. She pleaded for him to go faster, harder. When she was pregnant with Willow, he’d been too gentle with her, afraid to hurt their little one, but this time around he was more confident, and it wasn’t long before he felt his orgasm surface. He could tell by the rapid intake of breath that Katniss was as close as he was, and he reached down, flicking her bundle of nerves once, twice, before she pulsed around him. He grunted at the sensation and seconds later his cock throbbed with release inside her.

 

He rolled off to the side, careful not to crush Katniss, and gathered her close to him, gently brushing away sand from her back. They laid there in the early morning, sated, Peeta stroking her belly lovingly as their breathing returned to normal, until the sun rose in the sky a little more and he knew it was time to get back to their daughter.

 

Sensing Katniss was exhausted, Peeta scooped up his wife and carried her back across the water to their clothes. They dressed and made their way back home before Willow was up, stopping to allow Peeta a quick climb for a ripened bunch of bananas he spotted on their way. He didn’t have to do that anymore, since there was a market in the worker’s village at the end of the island. But to Peeta it felt natural scaling the trees, and he knew Katniss still marveled at his agility, so he took every opportunity to turn his wife’s eye.

 

Their home was situated down the path from the cave, set in a semi-open space. It wasn’t lavish or spread out, since the space wasn’t large enough for any of that, and he wouldn’t allow any trees to be cut down for their home. He hadn’t wanted to build in the more open spaces, either, near the cliff or the beach, hoping that someday they would have little ones to care for and thinking ahead for their safety. But they ended up with a slice of heaven on a third of the island that Finnick had sold him.

 

When he’d been reunited with Katniss, they’d formed a plan to set themselves up for the rest of their lives, as well as leave their children a sizable inheritance for their futures. It had taken two years, but once Effie had been put in her place, and the money secured by the sale of Peeta’s shares of the company that had been returned to him after he’d been legally raised from the dead, they left for Africa.

 

When they’d contacted Finnick about their plans, and asked to purchase part of the island, he’d been willing to give it to them as a gift. But Peeta had insisted on buying it, wanting it rightly in his and Katniss’s name. They’d set up a portable living space after they arrived while they found workers from the village to help construct their modest home. No one knew who they really were and the fact that they were building such a simple abode kept them from being of any real interest to the islanders. They felt safe here, away from the prying eyes of the world that had been glued to their every move after it was revealed he was alive.

 

As he looked around at his life on the anniversary of his shipwreck, he knew he’d gone through hell to get to paradise. But he’d do it all over again if it meant a life with Katniss. With Willow, and their new baby. He could imagine many pairs of feet slapping against the concrete of their home, running around and screeching in delight as he chased them, Katniss with a smile on her face as she cradled a babe at her breast.

 

The irony was never lost on Peeta that where he’d been lost was also where he was found. Where he would live out his days in joy and peace, passion and contentment with the woman who was meant for him, as surely as the tide rose and fell each day. Katniss and Peeta. Always.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's officially over. :( I've loved this story. Every word. Every expression I was able to make you feel with it. Connecting with the audience. Having discussions about WWPD in this situation and still be in character. The challenge of taking on something that a lot of people thought would be corny - which is why I went a different direction with it. I can't thank you enough for all the comments and follows on a story I thought would be a quick one shot, and maybe never even get added to the archives. Please, oh please, leave me a last review! Id' appreciate it so much! Come say hi on Tumblr - Peetabreadgirl.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave reviews! They greatly encourage me in my stories. If you haven’t seen this story yet, I’d be grateful to know what you think! Normally when I write heavy scenes it doesn’t really bother me because I know in my head where the story is going, so sometimes that emotion evades me and I hope I get someone to feel something. I actually felt something here from the very first clap of thunder, knowing I was going to have to send sweet, young Peeta’s family to a watery grave. The ocean is one of my biggest fears. I won’t go on a cruise or swim in it. Just too much danger there, so this was a toughy for me. What did you think? Talk to me! I’m on tumblr as Peetabreadgirl.


End file.
